


Absense Torture and Bliss

by UnwillingDevil



Category: Interview With the Vampire (1994), Vampire Chronicles - All Media Types, Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Angst and Drama, Angst and Feels, Blood Drinking, Depression, Gay Sex, Heavy Angst, M/M, Post-Canon, Romantic Fluff, Roommates, Smut, Vampire Sex, non-consensual biting, vampire marriage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:07:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 33
Words: 230,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29346363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnwillingDevil/pseuds/UnwillingDevil
Summary: All is not well at the Chateau de Lioncourt. After almost seven years of Lestat being Prince, the responsibilities of court begin to weigh too heavily on him and his castle full of beloveds. Tensions are high, relationships are confused, and it's impossible to guess whether heartache or happiness waits around every corner.Intrigue, angst, smut, romance, and drama galore!
Relationships: Armand/Daniel Molloy, Armand/Gregory Duff Collingsworth, Armand/Marius de Romanus, Daniel Molloy/David Talbot, Lestat de Lioncourt/David Talbot, Lestat de Lioncourt/Louis de Pointe du Lac, Louis de Pointe du Lac/David Talbot
Comments: 174
Kudos: 61





	1. Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis has recently returned to court from a journey that kept him away for several months. Meanwhile, Daniel has moved in to the castle for the first time after years of solitary travel.

Louis had only recently returned to the chateau. He had spent the previous months on yet another pilgrimage of self-discovery. At least that was how he would frame it when asked. The reality was a bit more human. As much as he enjoyed the company of those at court, he did need time to himself like anyone else.

Presently, the he was situated on the sofa in one of the chateau’s parlors with his journal in hand. However, he had not written in it for the day as he meant to for he found himself easily distracted by the sounds of the others milling about the castle.

Lestat had been overjoyed at Louis’s return...at first. After a few days, the sheer pleasure at having him back home had begun to fade and the conflicted feelings set in surrounding the fact that he’d ever gone in the first place. Lestat had kept himself busy and distracted specifically not to let himself dwell on any of that, effectively avoiding Louis. But when he noticed Louis in the parlor as he was passing, he couldn’t help noting that he’d placed himself in a space _to be found_. And what did that mean?

Nothing to do with Lestat, to be sure. This was for everyone else.

So of course Lestat needed to intervene.

Telling the other vampires he was walking with to go on without him, he ducked into the parlor and leaned over the back of the couch to look down at the page of Louis’s journal over his shoulder. He sighed in disappointment when he saw it empty. “Well aren’t you a damn tease.”

Louis may not have been able to hear Lestat’s thoughts, but he could sense that unmistakable aura that radiated from him. “Old habits die hard,” he retorted as he closed the blank book. “You will need to find your light reading elsewhere, I’m afraid.”

Folding his arms on the top of the sofa, he looked sideways at Louis. “Am I interrupting you?” he asked in a tone that was only halfway teasing, almost as if he hoped the answer would be yes.

Louis shifted where he sat so that he could properly face his maker. “Yes, as usual,” he replied although there was a hint of fondness in his tone. “How have you been holding up?” He set the journal down but habitually picked it back up again shortly after.

Lestat’s brows pinched before he could even attempt to school his expression. What a question. “Just fine,” he lied, straightening and glancing around the vast comfortable room as if to see if anyone else was lounging there even though he well knew it was empty. “Is there anything you need?” he asked somewhat distractedly, as if he meant to play the host who provided for all his guests.

Again, Louis did not need the mind gift to catch the lie. He raised a brow to signal that he in fact did not believe the statement. Yet at the same time, he did not challenge it verbally. “There is.” He paused. “I need you to be honest with me,” he said before he could really filter his thoughts. He paused again. “Will you sit with me properly?”

The reply surprised Lestat, and he glanced back down at Louis over the back of the couch. His first inclination was to say no, to explain that there was too much work to do and he could not linger here. He put a hand down on Louis’s head, his fingers slipping through his silky black hair to graze his scalp as if to soften the refusal that was obviously coming.

But Lestat couldn’t do it...not with Louis looking up at him that way. So he changed his mind and hopped over the back of the couch to sit on it, folding his foot up under him to face Louis sideway, resting his elbow on the cushions.

Louis leaned into the touch subconsciously. He had forgotten how much he’d missed Lestat although he was careful not to admit it. Lestat’s ego did not need more stroking. He half expected to be denied, for the only thing he felt Lestat hated more than having his ego bruised was having to confront his feelings.

He opened his mouth to argue, but before he could say anything, his Maker surprised him by obliging the request. “Better... Now, how are you really? I can only imagine a lot has happened in my absence.”

Lestat shrugged. Pressing his chin into his arm on the back of the couch, he looked over it at the door, as if he expected someone else to walk past at any moment, even though he heard no one in the corridor. He was simply avoiding Louis’s eyes. “I told you, I’m fine. Yes, a lot of has happened, but nothing serious. No adventures. Nothing to worry about.” That was to say—nothing he’d think Louis would care at all about, especially considering how easily he had left for so many months. “Just the usual court business.”

Louis still did not buy it, but he did know better than to press the issue. “I see,” he said, accepting the answer but not agreeing with it. “It is good to be home,” he added, quieter to ease the tension.

Lestat was not surprised when Louis didn’t push him further on the matter, it fit well with how they’d always been. It was fine. Or it would be fine. Whatever... Louis’s last words did bring a small smile to his face, though, and his eyes slipped back to look at him again finally. “Is it?” he asked, quietly pleased.

“Yes. Though the sentiment can always be revoked,” he reminded him with a hint of a smile. He shifted, crossing his legs and locking his eyes on his Maker as if he were trying to draw out the truth from him. “Who’s around?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Oh, the usual devils. Marius, David, Daniel, Fareed, Thorne and Cyril. Gregory and his and all the rest of the old ones. My mother’s on one of her journeys, though for how long, I couldn’t say. Benji and Sybelle are leaving tonight on vacation as well with Antoine. And Rose and Viktor are still traveling, of course.” Shifting off his hand, he plucked a bit of lint off Louis’s shoulder, but then his fingers lingered there, admiring the fine fabric of the garment. Louis had no choice here but to wear what Lestat liked, after all, and he’d even replaced half of Louis’s wardrobe while he was on his trip, filling the void of his absence with shopping. “Oh and Armand’s around,” he said, adding him as an afterthought like he always did.

Louis listened intently, making a mental note of who’s who. It was easier to exist in the court now that he was no longer afraid of the old ones. Though he still struggled to wrap his mind around the fact that there were those who were older than Marius.

He lazily observed Lestat’s motions and tried to resist brushing his hand off. “I see,” he repeated, remaining neutral. “It is probably rude that I hadn’t let them know of my return.”

“But you did.” Louis merely existing in this space again had been enough to accomplish that. Lestat’s fingertip traced the seam over Louis’s shoulder as if admiring the stitching, though he was hardly thinking of the garment anymore. “They know. They all know.” Lestat had probably been the last to know, in fact, though he’d quickly picked it up from the other minds. “It’s only rude if you’re avoiding them on purpose.” He lifted an inquisitive brow, wondering if that’s exactly what Louis had been doing.

Even after over five years, Louis had often forgotten that his existence was a broadcast to everyone in the chateau. It still unnerved him. “I would not say I’m avoiding them. But I would be lying if I told you I was seeking them out.”

Turning his hand over, Lestat’s fingertips brushed the ends of Louis’s hair that fell against his shoulder. “Is this your way of telling me that I’m the only reason you even came back here?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he teased. His tone was light but his eyes showed that he found some truth in Lestat’s words. “Tell me, how were you planning to spend your day...your highness?”

Lestat hooked a finger around one of Louis’s curls and tugged it reproachfully. “Don’t you dare call me that.”

Louis yelped in surprise. Normally, he wouldn’t mind hair pulling in the right context. But this was unprompted in Louis’s eyes. “Really, Lestat?” he asked as he moved his hand to his head, subconsciously checking for damage. “You tease me all the time. Yet you punish me for returning the favor?” He sounded bitter as he rose to his feet.

Louis’s reaction was enough to make Lestat laugh despite his mood. He leaned back against the sofa’s cushions to look up at him, smiling with no sign of regret. “If you tease me about that, I do.” It was a particular sore spot that was becoming sorer with each passing year that Lestat served as a public servant to vampire kind. The job wasn’t exactly thankless—the thanks and praise were heaped upon him constantly. But that was all part of the problem, wasn’t it?

Louis’s pride was bruised and his self-consciousness rose up. He took a brief moment to adjust his clothes. “You have no right to punish me in general,” he added under his breath. “I’m not your child.” His self-consciousness was easily giving way to a foul mood.

Lestat rose from the couch in one fluid movement to face Louis, taking him by the sides of his waist. “Ah, forgive me, Louis. You’re right.” He was still smiling as if he might laugh at him again at any moment. “I have no right, of course. None at all.”

“I’m not blind to your placations,” he said, it was clear the foul mood was here to stay. He reached down and plucked Lestat’s hands off his waist. “You don’t respect me.” It was a statement, not an accusation.

Lestat let his hands fall, tilting his head slightly to the side as he studied Louis. He’d missed even this in the months Louis was gone, these moods of his. “I do,” he said to argue the statement, but he was only mildly affronted. If anything, it was Louis’s lack of respect in using the royal title that mattered more. But Lestat was feeling too weary for one of their rows, so he didn’t push it.

Louis felt Lestat’s gaze upon him. What usually brought comfort made him feel quite small. He opened his mouth to argue, but at the last moment decided against it. Instead he shook his head to indicate that he didn’t believe him.

Lestat had half a mind to throw up his hands and leave the room. He didn’t have time for this. There was work to be done. Always so much work, so many duties, never finished, never any rest...Didn’t Louis understand that? Of course he didn’t... God...

But he regretted even thinking about it, and so caught one of Louis’s hands between his own instead, pressing it warmly. “Don’t look at me that way...”

Louis wished Lestat would trust him enough to tell him what plagued his mind. And that, in turn, Lestat would allow Louis’s lamentations. He did not pull away. “Please,” he muttered as he took a step closer.

Lestat flinched, very faintly, but he couldn’t quite hide it even though he kept his eyes down on their hands. He wasn’t sure exactly what Louis meant by that word, but he found he was afraid to find out. “Tell me what it was like back home,” he said quietly, turning Louis’s hand over between his, his fingers slipping between Louis’s. “I want to hear you speak of it.” Lestat hadn’t properly spent any time in New Orleans since the Talamasca had caused all that trouble at the start of the century. And Louis always had such a way with words when it came to the city Lestat most loved.

“I never told you where I was going,” he muttered. Louis didn’t immediately oblige him, but he didn’t yet deny him either.

“Gregory told me,” he said without looking up. “Don’t begrudge him for spying. He just wanted to be sure you were all right.” And Lestat had been desperate for any information at all over the months, but he wouldn’t admit that. He’d made every effort to show only positive support for Louis taking the time away he needed.

“Ah,” he said, though his tone conveyed that he appreciated the honesty. Although he was completely unaware that this wasn’t the whole truth. “I appreciate his concern.” _And yours._ He left that last bit unsaid. “But you’re deflecting... Why can’t you talk to me? What are you afraid of?” He felt himself getting angry now, though he wasn’t sure if it was at Lestat anymore.

Lestat sighed in disappointment. He’d wanted to escape through Louis’s descriptions of New Orleans, as he could never escape himself. But Louis’s last words made him bristle, guilt and shame rising within him that he covered quickly with anger. “I _am_ talking to you,” he said in terse but quiet voice.

“Yes, we are talking but you’re not _talking,_ ” he retorted.

Lestat released his hand and looked back up at him. “There’s nothing to deflect. Look...” He glanced at the door, then to the grandiose grandfather clock. “I’ve got to go. I’ve a meeting. It’s...” He shook his head, deciding it wasn’t worth explaining. “We’ll talk later,” he promised before turning to head out of the room.

“No we won’t,” Louis muttered under his breath before settling back down on the sofa. Although, he no longer felt like journaling.

_______

Court life didn’t agree entirely well with Daniel. Could be the couple decades he’d spent in near-isolation, “getting his thoughts together” as Marius delicately put it, or it might have been how he was so used to having Armand entirely to himself for so long. The whole, ah, Akasha fiasco aside, Daniel’s vampiric life had been a relatively asocial affair, and to emerge from his emotional break alone with his ‘grandsire’ and to a castle absolutely flooded with vampires was not an easy transition to make. Especially since in some detached way, he was the one who set the dominoes to fall like this in the first place.

So he’d made a camp for himself in an alcove off the chateau’s library, laptop open, one earbud in. Quiet here, away from the strained heartache of Louis, from Lestat and whatever petty thing still had his nose up in the air around Daniel, away from the choking stress of being in the same room with his maker and Marius for too long.

Daniel liked the quiet. But it still got fucking lonely.

Armand had still remained at his spot by the window of his apartment long after they’d left, Sybelle and Benji, his children and faithful companions for two decades now. He’d watched their forms grow tinier and tinier as they moved away, smaller than mortals could discern and smaller than that, still. And he’d stayed there well after he’d lost sight of them entirely. His arms were folded, his face the perfect picture of bitterness. Or was it concern? He was offended when they’d made their intentions known, their wish to explore the wider world, perhaps even bring new blood drinkers back, if Lestat might approve. He had been angry. He had provided for them invariably and unfathomably, protected them at all costs, and now they wanted away with him. Yes, it was this bitterness that rooted him to the spot, not concern. And ultimately, it was the fear of being alone again. He hated it. He’d indulged in solitude for centuries on end so long ago. No more.

It was about two o’clock when he finally uprooted himself and decided to take a walk to the library. Lestat had made a big spectacle of its unveiling, and he’d not visited it in a long while. He marveled at its greatness, its vastness, how marvelously and accurately it captured the romance of the 18th century. He marveled at how seamlessly little touches of technology had been woven into it, so as not to disturb its historical integrity. He marveled at the plush carpets and rich and endless array of cushions. He may have marveled longer, were he not brought out of his trance by happening upon Daniel, whom he’d paid scant attention to since he’d arrived. He cast his eyes over his fledgling with a mixture of guilt and affection, tilting his head as he met those violet eyes.

“You’ve holed yourself up in here, Danny?” He spoke after a long moment. There was no judgment in it.

Daniel felt an awkward, almost haphazard grin spread over his face, and he took out his other earbud, still able to hear the faint echoes of music as it hung around his shoulder. “Still can’t say I like all that old music they’re playing in the ball room,” he offered as a half-truth with a shrug. “All those lyres or whatever—from your time yeah?”

Miami seemed so long ago, and for Daniel, it was. Half his lifetime ago, more. Arm in arm with his vampiric lover, doused in wealth and attention where now he had little desire for either. “So I uh, thought maybe I would try writing a while instead. Besides, Marius is nonstop busy and I knew you were... Busy.”

Yeah. Busy. Nice and vague, noncommittal. He didn’t need a mental link to his maker to read the tension in his shoulders or the agitation he almost hid in his posture.

“You do not want me here.” Armand spoke softly, still keeping his voice free of any judgment or hurt. Armand was good at that, at playing like he felt nothing when he really felt a lot. Besides, he could understand his fledgling’s reasoning. He had been absent and neglectful of Daniel since Marius had taken him in. He knew what it was to feel as though your maker had given up on you, and he could forgive the manifestation of this pain now.

“No!” Daniel injected, perhaps a little too quickly, and he cringed at his own voice. “No, that’s not it, it’s just ...well, I knew you’d be with those other two, so I figured I’d give you space.”

 _Those other two._ Yikes. Could he make his own discomfort and envy any more obvious? No wonder Armand was so cool to him now.

Meanwhile, David glanced up from his book. Daniel was somewhere across the library talking to Armand. David had been there some time, lost in this fascinating book he’d discovered in a Paris bookshop. The science of near death experiences. He was taking voluminous notes on his notepad. He’d heard Daniel enter earlier. Heard the tiny sounds of music in the earbuds he wore. Perhaps he should have been more polite and greeted him, but he was entranced by his study.

Daniel heard David shuffling around in his own part of the library, and though he knew him only casually he took comfort in knowing he wasn’t alone with Armand...and more comfort knowing that Armand could not feel this relief. Armand was his maker, damn it, his...should he call him Master now? That was way too weird, but it seemed the norm in Marius’s bloodline, even that Benji kid used it, that little...

Ah. There was that bitter well of envy again, and he swore he could feel David’s laughter brush the side of his mind.

Armand’s lips quirked into the smallest of smiles at this, at Daniel’s urgency to keep him there. Though the tone he used shot another pang of guilt through him.

“Ah, Sybelle and Benji.” He spoke knowingly. He could tell that Daniel felt contempt for them, despite his inability to read his thoughts. “They had wanted to get to know you better, before you’d left. I’d told them about you.” As if that was meant to offer some consolation. “I can go, if you’d like? David is here, do you get along?”

“Oh, no,” Daniel said, again too quickly before he had a chance to think. “Shit, no, I mean we get along fine, he’s leant me some old newspapers scavenged off the Talamasca—did you know they had your mugshot?—Yeah we’re fine...but you don’t have to go.”

He really didn’t want Armand to go, and not just for his own sake. He didn’t like when Armand looked so...young. Of course, he _was_ young, but some days something about him made him seem small, wandering, almost lost, and Daniel didn’t like the thought of him wandering the castle alone, even though he knew Armand could take down half the court himself with no effort.

David sighed, distracted again from his reading by Daniel and Armand. Why were vampires so terrible at simple communication? Sometimes David felt like the resident therapist, trying to politely navigate them through all their dysfunctional ways. How many years had he lived patiently between Lestat and Louis, trying to just get them to open up to one another? Now he just wanted to read and be quiet here. 

Against every instinct of politeness he had, David glanced again across the library towards the other two. “Shhhhh.” He pointed to the beautifully painted mural along one of the walls, of cherubs reading books and the fancy scripted word “Library.”

With a flush of embarrassment Daniel grit hit teeth and offered an apologetic smile, noting that Armand looked more affronted and offended than contrite. Trying to diffuse any potential situation, Daniel leaned forward over his desk and out his hand on Armand’s forearm.

“Shh, the librarian will kick us out, boss!”

Boss...Daniel had always called him that. Armand openly smiled at it. Daniel was one of the few people that respected him in that manner.

“It’s only David.” He sighed softly, voice lowering despite his words. His smile broadened slightly at the gentleness of Daniel’s touch, his instinctiveness to reach out to him after all this time. “But we can go elsewhere if we are disturbing him. Would you like us to leave, David?!” He distinctly and purposefully raised his voice.

Daniel quietly hid his burst of laughter behind an artfully distressed cough.

David heard Armand’s question, because Armand made no attempt to lower his voice. David refused to look up from his notebook, where he was scribbling his notes. He lifted his pen and waved dismissively at them, intending to let them interpret it as they wanted. But then Daniel made some god awful snorking sound and David lost his already thinning composure. He looked up from his notes and frowned at them. Particularly Daniel. “Look, dear man, I don’t mean to be rude, but it’s a library, not social circle. So yes, leave if you don’t intend to be quiet in a space meant for quiet.”

Armand offered David a small smile, laden with fondness. He found the other’s crotchety behavior amusing. In fact, it put him in mind of Marius, when Marius’s patience wore thin. Still, he turned to Daniel and looked to him then, still comfortable in his grasp. “My chambers are free, Danny. If you would like to leave? Or we can sit in silence and appease our long suffering David.”

Somehow the idea of having to get up sounded like an impossible task. Up all those stairs to Armand’s rooms, past all those people. Gave Daniel a deep craving for a cigarette, a purely psychological impulse now.

“I think I can mind myself here,” he snorted, keeping his tone down. Flickering his eyes from his maker to the desk, he kicked a chair out from the other side opposite him. “Siddown,” he offered in an almost inaudible whisper. “We can behave...and if grandpa doesn’t like it, I’m sure he’ll let us know.”

Armand was unsure of what he had truly wanted, or expected, but he still found it difficult to curb the hurt of Daniel’s rejection. It may have translated to his features, he couldn’t have known. He nodded, a small smile still upon his lips that did not reach his eyes, before taking the offered seat. “It brings me great joy to see you yourself again, Danny.”

Oh, the biting and impulsive snaps held on the end of Daniel's tongue; _why didn’t you come visit us? Why didn’t you write to me? Did you miss me?_ And he kept them each in. This wasn’t the time, neither to start shit nor to let his anxious mood bring out the worst in him. That was to sort through later. For now he just let himself uncoil a little at Armand’s kind words.

“Missed you,” was all he sighed back. “Seems like I’ve barely gotten any time with you since I got back. You’ve all been...ah...busy.” Yeah, busy was a nice way to talk about both building up a society from the ground and trying to not be murdered.

“You may have done. But you are angry with me.” Armand spoke carefully, watching his fledgling with cautious eyes. All remaining mirth was gone from his face now. He could read Daniel, and his own guilt amplified it all tenfold. He had not expected it to hurt so much when he was confronted with this. “Just as I was angry with Marius, when I found him still alive. And I have even less of an excuse than he did.”

Oh, uh, Daniel was never good when Armand got emotional. Not like this at least. Back in their days, in the 70s and 80s (god how was that so long ago?) They’d screamed and fought and had the cops called on them more than once but when it came to this open and honest nonsense?

“...It’s fine, boss. You didn’t sign up for crazy. Marius took good care of me, you know that. And I’ve liked the quiet time to get settled in...god, tell me fifty years ago that someday I’d be living in a castle??”

Ah, but of course Marius had taken good care of him. Marius whom never felt burdened because it seemed, sometimes, that he hardly ever felt. Still, he could not conceal a small smile at Daniel’s remark. “Lestat can extend great generosity to the people he cares about. Even for me, a castle holds a great and awesome power. Though I much prefer a warmer temperament.”

David decided he’d had enough trying to tune out the chatter across the library. Also, there were some spirits flitting around in there that were distracting his research. He stood abruptly, gathered his notes and the book he’d been reading, and walked out of the library. But not before stopping at Daniel and Armand’s table and giving each of them a firm look. “So sorry if I was being a bother to you before,” he said a bit sarcastically. He looked into Daniel’s violet eyes and then at Armand’s beautiful face and felt his sour mood soften slightly. He sighed a bit. “Daniel missed you, Armand. And Armand missed you, Daniel. There were no ulterior motives for the separation on either side.” He gave them a parting smile and left.

Daniel was having some sharp flash backs to middle school detention, and gave another apologetic half smile lest he get popped with a ruler next. He quite liked David, honestly, and didn’t like being on his bad side at all.

“...His attitude is way too healthy for this court if you ask me,” he said to Armand, leaning back against his chair as the door closed. “Nobody here should be able to be that direct... I did miss you though.”

Armand’s eyes sparkled with mirth. He too felt a boy again, almost. Running drunk and disorderly through the palazzo halls from frail old Vincenzo, who always swore that they would be the death of him. But as he watched David go, Daniel’s words brought him out of it.

“I would have welcomed you with open arms, bid you come to me, come to you even, if I’d thought you wanted me Danny.” He spoke softly. He let the name linger as if it were something special. As far as he knew, nobody else called him that. He enjoyed calling him that. “I missed you too.”

Daniel let out a quick snort, balancing back on two chair legs, knowing that sooner or later it would end badly. Even with his vampiric reflexes, he was still not the most coordinated nor attentive.

“Do you mean since I’ve gotten back with Marius or before?” he asked lightly, studying the white molding of the ceiling. “Because I couldn’t really ask for much before besides new paint...but yeah. I could have come knocking since. You just seemed to have your hands full, and I get enough of Benji on the radio....not that he’s not a good kid or anything! ....I mean I read your book, you know. I know you love him.”

Armand quirked a brow at this. He was shocked to hear such admissions of almost...jealousy...in Daniel’s tone. “They’re gone, you know. I don’t know for how long.” He said very quietly, mood souring somewhat as he thought on it again. “You can speak freely of them.”

“And see your face do the scary melty thing again?” he said, shaking his head. “No thanks, you gave me nightmares every time... besides, I don’t know them. I don’t want to talk shit on people I don’t know...but you’ve been with them a long time huh? Longer than me....shit, longer than Marius, technically.” He let his chair fall back forward, folding his arms across the table. “But you can still hear them right? You aren’t their Maker after all. Marius took care of that.”

“Marius seems to take care of a lot of things.” There was a touch of bitterness to Armand’s voice, perhaps returning guilt. No matter. He loved his maker, and they were reunited again. “Yes, it’s been some time. They’ve enough of me now. It took longer than I thought.”

There was a lot that unsaid at such a statement. Fledglings grow to resent their makers, Armand had said more than once, a sentiment that wasn’t unheard of in their kind, but he hasn’t heard it in some time and had rather hoped Armand was growing past that.

“It’s a big world,” Daniel offered weakly. “Lots to see... Hell, I’ve barely seen anything. Not since you decided to stalk me across the entire northern hemisphere and scare the shit out of me doing it. I hardly got to enjoy Tokyo at all with you crouched outside my 17th story window all night. I ought to have you take me back for a do over.”

“Let’s not talk on them anymore, my love. Please. It hurts.” Armand spoke tenderly, unwilling to hide his vulnerability from Daniel in this moment. What need was there for it? “I’ll take you to Tokyo again, one day.”

Such a little promise felt warm, and he could immediately see the spark it sent off in Armand’s big, brown eyes, as though the thought was a strike of artistic inspiration. “Sounds fun. We could go in the spring, when all the cherry trees are blooming? ...Maybe the three of us? Marius? Or your bff Lestat?” he added with a grin, waiting to be kicked under the table.

Armand shot Daniel a biting look then. He’d just displayed a great amount of vulnerability and had it thrown back at him with jokes of Lestat. He attempted to calm himself, soften his expression. Daniel meant nothing by it. “We can take Marius too, if it pleases you to be around him as it does me. In the spring. And we’ll share a room between us.”

Daniel couldn’t deny he liked getting under Armand’s skin a little bit, even though he had a penchant for going too far and getting himself in trouble; he got it from his sire, what could he say?

Which was probably why he next had to grin and ask, “Oh, a king size bed for us three then? Honeymoon suite? And here I thought my dear old dads would prefer alone time.”

“If you’d rather that, you can have your own room. Or better yet you’ll have no room at all and lament our closeness from the streets below.” Armand quirked a brow, all malice gone from him now. He’d always enjoyed a game like this, talk like this. He leaned a little further forward, mouth curled into a small smile and eyes ablaze with a devilishness. “You’ll be able to hear everything with the keenness of any immortal, and we will not be quiet.” Marius might hit him for insinuating such things, but it was fun to play.

Daniel still grew pink around the ears when Armand got like this. He was fucking 65 years old at this point but the mouth on this little brat—!

“Does your Master approve of your love to kiss and tell?” He scoffed, trying to cover up the warmth of his face by dispelling the issue. “He sure as shit doesn’t like it when you embarrass him at council, is embarrassing him in the library allowed?”

Armand laughed sinfully at this, voice rich with his intentions. “Enough talk of him now, I’m sure you won’t tell on me,” he asked quietly, tilting his head. His face was almost a picture of innocence at this point, the change had been swift though some of the shameless seduction still simmered beneath the surface. He leaned further forward still, face edging ever closer to his fledgling’s, as he admired the color that dusted his cheeks, that he had put there in an instant.

“Tell me, my love, my Danny, how long would you last beneath our window before you were scratching at the pane?”

“Twelve seconds before I get tired of listening to a couple cats in heat and go out for a hunt,” he said dryly, but Armand’s hand on his arm seemed to bring imaginary him forward as much as physical him. “You’re such a little slut, you know that?”

Armand was taken aback by this. He drew back slightly. Was he offended by this? Perhaps marginally. But had he enjoyed the admission and the tone with which his only fledgling had said it? Immensely. He hummed thoughtfully, sliding so close to Daniel so that he was practically atop the table now. And who cared, now that they had their privacy? “You say that with reverence. Do you like it?” he murmured against Daniel’s lips.

“...I don’t hate it,” Daniel said, smiling against Armand’s soft mouth. “Maybe if I shut up you’ll at least let me back in to watch?”

“And then what?” Armand snaked his fingers around Daniel’s collar as he threatened a kiss with each syllable. He held tightly enough to excite, but not enough to pull him any further forward.

“If you ever did manage to shut up, Danny, could you resist trying to join? How tempting would it seem to you to see us together? To see Marius over me, taking me in every way, his eyes gleaming with the power of my blood? Where would you fit yourself, in our little equation? Tell me.” He spoke in a sultry, sinful whisper, his eyes wild as they locked onto Daniel’s.

Now Armand’s mind might be closed to both himself and Marius but the generation skip left Marius and himself quite connected. Thus it was with no small amount of anxiety and nervous shame, and a heavy dose of thrill that he eased himself a little closer to whisper in Armand’s ear.

“Like I haven’t thought of that before? Think you could handle two of us at once? I’ve read your little erotic memoir, I’m sure you could take it, if I could convince your beloved Master to share.”

Armand laughed softly. He lingered for a moment, enjoying Daniel’s breath against him, losing himself in those eyes for the first time in a long time. Then he pulled away, retreating to his seat. He didn’t look away.

“You are good at this, Daniel. I have to admit it. You’ve got an air of dominance about you I’d forgotten. Or perhaps it was not present before.” His voice held something akin to pride. He straightened his sleeves, merely keeping his hands busy as he thought. “I’ll accept that challenge, if you speak to Marius. He’s not the jealous type.”

Daniel was not so quick to retreat, and kept his arms pressed into the table as he leaned downward, keeping Armand’s gaze. “He didn’t seem to be. As pretty as you are, I’m surprised he isn’t wanting to parade you around in front of half the court. The Great Marius and his sweet little consort, hm?”

Armand frowned deeply as Daniel came towards him. It troubled him, this theft of control. He was not used to it from Daniel of all people. That was not to say he didn’t like it. Despite his own self-control a low heat crept upon him at the thought. He wondered if Marius would even dare to postulate such things?

“Danny...” He was momentarily at a loss for words. He maintained his gaze. “He wouldn’t. And you’re insolent for thinking of it.”

Daniel faltered in his play, backing down a little and loosening the way he’d squared his shoulders, not quite sure if Armand was still playing or if he was truly upset that Daniel would suggest such a thing about his maker.

Playing middle road, Daniel leaned over the table to lay a quick kiss on Armand’s cold cheek. “He would never,” he said comfortingly, but with a grin added, “so long as you mind yourself.”

“You’re a terrible creature, Daniel. You’ll have to mind yourself, the way you’re talking. You’ll want to hope that Marius can’t hear your words.” Armand said almost reproachfully. He leaned into the kiss, he’d enjoyed it. And he’d been thoroughly thrilled by Daniel’s newfound dominance, though he was unsure of how to express it.

Daniel adored the glint in in Armand’s eyes, glad to see a bit if that spark back, even if it was the result of getting him horribly sexually frustrated—and in all honestly he might have invited Armand back to his own apartment for a quick spell if Cyril hadn’t just then about pounded down the door to the library, completely disregarding the plea for quiet.

“If you don’t get to the council chambers within the next five minutes, child, someone else will come looking for you who won’t be as patient,” Cyril said to Armand, gruff but smooth as ever. “You got the memo about the meeting, right?”

Armand rose from his seat gracefully, unperturbed by Cyril’s powerful interruption. There was little any of them could do to truly instill fear within him. “Perhaps you’d visit me later, Daniel?” he asked coolly, as though the past events hadn’t even taken place. He did not spared Cyril a glance as he left the room without an answer.

Cyril kept his gaze even as the little redheaded brat brushed by; sure he was a pretty little thing but also a feral child half the time... At the very least he _always_ made council meetings interesting. Armand Outbursts was his favorite series.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're ready for a very gay vampire soap opera of EPIC proportions. Over 100k words written on this one so far! Updates will be fast.


	2. The Memo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The good Dr. Fareed has some bad news for the court.

David had found his way into the council chamber at the top of the chateau’s north tower, where he was happy to see empty chairs all around. No one. No vampires. No spirits. Nothing. He spread his notes out on the table and his book. He sat happily at the head of the table in the chair Marius usually took.

But then Lestat arrived soon after, ready for the meeting he’d mentioned to Louis. He was early, but he’d wanted the excuse to leave the parlor. He was only half surprised to see David had arrived before him. If anyone else would be too early for a meeting, it would be him. Lestat was in too foul a mood to even notice what chair David was in, but he pressed his fledgling’s shoulder affectionately as he passed him on his way to his own chair. He threw himself into it, put his feet up on the table and leaned all the way back, closing his eyes for a minute to try to calm himself down.

David felt a familiar hand on his shoulder and looked up from his book to see Lestat sprawled at the other end of the table. Apparently there just no place to find personal time alone in this castle. Which made sense, considering the growing population that inhabited it.

Lestat looked tired and a little angry. Never a good mix. David felt himself tense in response. One never knew when Lestat was going to have a tantrum or lash out in anger. “Hello, love. Looking for some silence as well?”

“Hmmm,” Lestat replied noncommittally. “No such thing.” His delighted euphoria from earlier in the week when Louis had first returned from his months away now seemed like a distant memory.

He shook his head, trying to banish all his tumultuous feelings from it. Opening one eye, he squinted across the table at David. “Fareed has something to tell us. He says it’s urgent, there was a memo, I don’t know. I didn’t read it. He’ll go off on it all when he gets here. If it’s silence you want, you’d better run now. This room will be full in thirty minutes or so.” He did his best to hide his anger and frustration under practical matters.

David narrowed his eyes at his maker. Clearly Lestat was bothered about something. Probably Louis-related. “I didnt get that memo. Why does Fareed always leave me off these memos? Doesn’t he know I love a good memo?” David closed his book and organized his notes into a neat pile. He felt he wanted to be here for this meeting, so had no intention of fleeing. Also, he wasn’t in the mood for dancing around Lestat’s mood. “Why are you upset?”

“I’m not,” he lied. Though he wasn’t doing it to shut David out. Lestat wanted the fact to be true. If he insisted upon it enough, it would be. He was fine. Louis was fine. The court was fine. Everything was fine. Night after night after night after night. Just fine.

He let his chair fall back onto its legs and took his feet off the table, draping one leg over the chair’s arm instead, his gaze fixed on the light reflecting in the table’s wood. “This table’s terrible,” he said abruptly. “Why did I ever choose it? I’ll order a new one tomorrow.”

David frowned and looked at the table. It seemed a fine table to him. A little scuffed in places. “Perhaps if you weren’t always putting your filthy boots on it, it wouldn’t look terrible. Are you not able to sit properly, ever?”

Lestat laughed in a low, distracted way and finally actually really looked at David for the first time since entering. “I’ll have you know, my boots are immaculate,” he retorted, grateful for the change of subject. He leaned his elbow on his chair’s opposite arm, resting his chin in his hand as he slouched further into his seat in a very deliberate way. “What’s that you’re reading?” he asked with genuine interest to talk about anything other than himself for once.

David felt his mood lighten. “This book? This is an incredible study into the medical and scientific evidence of near-death experiences. It’s fascinating, really. All about the psychological and physiological aspects of the cells and the brain function...” David trailed off as he realized Lestat looked disinterested already. “It’s a book I found in a Paris bookshop. It has words in it. I like it.” He folded his hands on the book and gazed at Lestat. “Perhaps we could take Louis to this bookshop soon?”

Lestat snorted when David started dumbing down his explanation, but he wasn’t actually offended. The concept of near-death experiences, of any possibility of a true glimpse into the great beyond frankly terrified him. Especially after his traumatic adventures that had hedged so close to such answers only to leave him with more questions than he’d ever dreamed. David’s mention of Louis, though, made him frown just faintly, and his gaze drifted back to the reflection in the table. “I’m sure he’d like that.” His fingers of his free hand pressed into the edge of the wood. “He likes spending time with you.”

David allowed a long silence as he thought about Lestat’s words. What was wrong between these two now? “He enjoys being with you as well. We both do. You seem tired, Lestat. Maybe you need time away from all this?” David glanced at the clock on the wall. “Did you know Daniel and Armand have no understanding of what silence in a library means?”

Lestat had to laugh at that. Time away from all this?? He turned his face against his hand, pressing his thumb between his eyes. He tried to reply, but he couldn’t through the laughter. There was no getting away from _all this_. Not ever!

His laughter wasn’t loud at all, but it seized him, made him almost want to cry. He only managed to shake his head and reply to David’s second comment because it distracted him enough. “Don’t they? I thought I put up a sign.”

Fareed entered the council chamber, clutching a stack of papers with a tablet rested on top. Gingerly, he set it down, not wasting time for pleasantries. He looked around the room, waiting for the chatter to die down before speaking.

Apparently library rules were hilarious to Lestat as well. “I didn’t see the sign. It should be placed in a more obvious location,” David muttered. He watched as Fareed set up for the meeting. “Good evening Fareed.”

“I’m glad you think so. Unfortunately that is going to change momentarily,” Fareed said, sounding distracted. Without Seth around, he felt vulnerable, and the information he was about to share did not make the feeling ease.

Lestat managed to calm his near-hysteria, and he followed Fareed’s movements silently. This was good. This was regular. Routine. It needed Lestat’s focus. Concentration. Decisions would need to be made. So many damn decisions. Well, bring it on. Let’s go.

As he took in more of the doctor’s attitude, though, Lestat became concerned. “Something’s wrong,” he said. It wasn’t a question and he looked with worry to the other members of his council who were now all joining them at the table.

Marius entered the room, a look of concern plastered on his features. But it faded ever so slightly when he realized David was in his chair. “I beg your pardon,” he said. “I believe you’re in my seat.”

David looked up at the Roman. “Oh, I do apologize.” He stood immediately and moved to the next seat, taking his belongings with him. “Did you get the memo?”

“I did, that is why I’m here,” he said as he settled in his usual place. He folded his hands and looked at the young doctor. For once, it was someone other than Lestat causing a catastrophe.

Quietly, observing the usual bullshit of the room, Cyril took his usual spot by the wall next to Thorne, just close enough to their young prince to be at his side in half a heartbeat.

As much as he loved Cyril and Thorne individually, their vigilant presence made Lestat tense tonight. It was all so pointless, wasn’t it? It didn’t mean anything anymore now that he no longer held the sacred core. If something happened to him now, a different vampire would step in and take his place. The pretense made him weary and ill at once, though he tried to bury it and focus on the meeting.

Fareed watched as everyone took their place, but he had no intention of waiting any longer. He pulled out a folder and started to pass out paper from it as he spoke. “On this page, you will observe the schematic of a lyssavirus. Lyssavirus is in the family rhabidoviridae,” he prompted as he continued passing out the material. “Members of the Lyssavirus genus include Duvenhage virus, European bat lyssavirus types 1 and 2, Australian bat lyssavirus, Khujand virus, Bokeloh bat lyssavirus, Irkut virus and Aravan virus.” He paused. “And of course, rabies.”

Lestat felt his eyes cross at the length of the jargon-jumbled terms on the page accompanied by Fareed’s words. He pushed the paper away from himself on the table and sat up marginally straighter in his chair. He had no idea what the doctor was saying, but it was his tone and agitated manner that concerned him most. Lestat couldn’t bear the suspense. “Get to the point, won’t you?”

Gregory, sitting one seat down from Fareed, examined the document and listened to the litany of viruses rambled off. “Yes, what’s this to do with us, Fareed? We don’t get viruses.”

“Naturally, we do not,” he said. “If you turn to the other side, you will see that there are two strands of RNA. One from myself, the other a specimen of European Bat Lyssavirus. I noted the similarities in peptide structure. “ He paused, wishing Seth were here to protect him from the aftermath. “I could not help but wonder why our RNA is so similar to that of a lyssavirus. So I started dabbling in synthetic virology and eventually ended up hybridizing a specimen. The result was fascinating. My test subject was a Desmodontinae...common vampire bat.”

Groans scattered through the council. They are so tired of any and all ties to vampire bats, even legitimate ones.

Lestat was mightily displeased with being ignored. He resolutely did not turn his page over to the other side, knowing it would be just as incomprehensible to him as the first side. “Fareed,” he said sharply. “Enough. What is the matter? Why is any of this urgent, as your memo so declared?”

Gregory, however, read the other side of the document and felt a sick drop in his gut. Something like drinking old blood. If he was reading this right... “Fareed? Are you saying what I think you are saying?”

“Which is what?” Lestat demanded loudly.

Cyril took a half step forward, sensing the tension growing around the table even though he himself didn’t understand the need for any of this chatter either. But Lestat tended to mind better with a...nice calming presence nearby.

“I am not certain what you are thinking,”Fareed answered Gregory. “But my gut tells me that you have come to the correct conclusion regardless of the path...” he rambled a bit. “To appease the prince...the bats showed rabid tendencies, but didn’t perish. My specimen’s hunger increased, and when mixing its blood with my own...it showed up the ability to infect any one of us.” He paused to catch his breath. “In short, I noticed the implications and destroyed the subjects and the specimens....except one got out.” He paused again, unable to hide his anxiety now. “Bats are a known human disease vector. I know not how it will affect humans... but regardless, if we end up with the tainted blood. The results could be catastrophic.”

“What disease?” Lestat demanded. “What are you saying? What results?” Missing the middle of the lecture definitely had a boggling effect on him. He shot a hostile look across the table at Gregory, feeling betrayed that he seemed to understand all this so immediately while Lestat and most of the rest were missing so many puzzle pieces. “Are you saying this disease is something you created?” he snapped at Fareed. “And we’re not immune?”

Gregory dropped the paper to the table, and then his head fell into his hands in horror of the realization. He said several profane words in ancient Egyptian, which, thankfully, Cyril might be the only one in the room to understand.

Oh, he did, and Cyril shared a quiet glance with Gregory, noting the growing panic barely hidden in his eyes. Cyril’s own energy went to keeping himself completely still on the outside, shutting off his mind to the room and most importantly, to Lestat. He would just listen; whatever Fareed was saying was surely not as bad as it seemed at first

“The effects and impact are theoretical,” Fareed said. “I only know for certain what I stated and put on that paper. Everything else is a postulation.” He ran a hand through his black hair. “It...could be nothing.”

“But it’s not, is it?” Lestat whispered, his gaze fixed intently on Fareed. He didn’t understand a thing about any of the medical discussion. What he understood was the palpable horror coming off of Fareed for this situation.

 _Could be nothing_? Gregory laughed at that. He looked at Fareed and laughed. “Are you kidding? You unleashed a rabid vampire bat on the human population. From whom we drink. And now, who knows if any of us might have this virus? Is it airborne? Does it pass vampire to vampire?”

“I wish I was...as far as I know, it is vector born. There is no strain that is transmitted through air.” Fareed purposefully did not answer the other question since he did not know.

“Come here,” Lestat commanded.

The doctor rose and approached Lestat, bracing himself for death.

Rising from his chair, Lestat stared at him stonily until he was within reach. Then he glanced to everyone else around the table with a look that mixed frustration with fury as if they were the culprits of this week’s disaster. After only a moment though, he took the last step to Fareed and put an arm around him, drawing him against his side. “No one will harm you,” he said in a low, serious voice, making it law. “From what you say, this may be nothing. But we cannot know. So we must now all behave as if it is not nothing. Is that right?”

“We must do more than that!” Armand snapped, rising from his seat. He glared up at Lestat stormily. “For the first time since the origin of our kind, there comes a potentially fatal threat other than fire! Sybelle and Benji are out there! As are Antoine, Rose and Viktor, unaware of this. We must get them home and then take appropriate action.”

Several of the council started to rise, all murmuring about makers and fledglings and friends who were out there, and as they talked over one another and started reaching for phones and jackets to leave, each voice feeding on the other, _not_ helped by the little angel beast, Cyril raised two fingers to his lips and gives a sharp, piercing whistle to the room. “I believe the good doctor would still like to speak.”

David, ears ringing from the whistle Cyril just accosted them with, sat back down. But he kept his phone out, prepared to speed dial Jesse.

Lestat glanced at Cyril gratefully as the tumult in the room quieted. He kept his arm around Fareed as if worried he’d get torn apart by everyone else the moment he released him, though he knew no one would dare defy his decree that Fareed must not be harmed.

Fareed looked at Lestat with disbelief. He certainly expected the prince to side with the gremlin. “Yes,” he finally answered. “You are correct. I halted all experimentation before I could get real answers. For all I know, sunlight could now kill the bat...”

“Tell us what we must do,” Lestat said. “Should we call the others all back to the chateau at once?”

“Yes, Fareed,” Gregory spoke, nodding to Lestat and letting him know that no one in the room would touch Fareed as long as he was there. Without Seth here to protect him, Gregory felt the responsibility, if it could be called such, fell to him. “Tell us what we need to do? What would be the symptoms if any vampire were to have this virus? Should we somehow be alerting the mortals of the WHO?”

“Let us not call our loved ones back here,” Fareed prompted. “The further they stay away from where the bat escaped my Paris laboratory last night, the safer they are. Hold off on alerting the WHO. We do not need to answer to them yet.” He wracked his brain. “The symptoms I’ve observed in the bat are extreme hunger, hydrophobia, and aggression.”

Lestat nodded, releasing Fareed, but staying by his side. “Call them,” he instructed everyone at the table. “And put out the word. To everyone in the chateau who is not here.” Glancing aside at Fareed, his expression remained stony. “Is there a timeline?” His own fingers itched at his pocket for his phone to call Rose, but he refrained for the moment.

“If you’re referring to an incubation period, it could be anywhere from zero to twenty-one days,” he said. “Which brings up my next point. Any who do return here will need to be under observation. They could bring this virus into the castle.”

Lestat thought he understood, though clearly other members of the council pieced it together faster, and he gathered the missing parts from their minds and then nodded to Fareed. “We’ll section off the east side of the castle for them.” Sliding his phone out of his pocket, he couldn’t wait any longer and he dialed Rose. But it just rang and rang. For all he knew, she was in a time zone where the sun was already up. His eyes scanned the rest of the table anxiously as they all reacted.

“Any further questions?” Fareed asked cautiously. He was anxious to get back to his study and work on a cure for damage control. And prepare for a contingency. But of course, every hand at the table went up.

Later, after the meeting fizzled down, Marius, who had been mostly silent through the whole thing, stayed behind. He remained in the chamber for quite some time, trying to reconcile his sense of justice with his rationality. This was not a war he’d win easily, if at all. His gaze was locked on the sheet of paper that he didn’t understand while his mind remained tumultuous.

Armand was glad that everyone else had left the chamber. The solitude with Marius would him to do away with pretenses. He was afraid, extremely so. He’d gone out to call to Sybelle and Benji and he knew that Daniel had only fed from the chateau’s dungeons that night as the young ones often did. Now he had to ensure Marius was safe. Never mind his maker’s age and strength. Armand was afraid.

He slid his phone back into his pocket and entered the room again, closing the door behind him. Perhaps too eagerly, too quickly he’d walked up to Marius, to truly study his face. He looked pale as ever, that was a good sign. “Tell me you’ve not fed tonight.” He spoke quietly, eyes filled with fear, with concern.

Marius was pulled from his thoughts almost immediately when the sound of his fledgling’s voice registered. One look was all he needed in order to see that Armand was scared. It had been centuries since he’d seen this side of him.

“Come here, caro mío,” he said, more focused on consoling him than answering the question. He moved his chair so that Armand had room to climb on his lap.

Armand obliged, if only to get closer to Marius to get a better impression of the situation. Still, he needed the intimacy. He slid his hands into Marius’ hair, tilting his face this way and that to study every contour of it. The fear didn’t leave him in that time, not even as he found Marius’s skin cold to the touch.

“I need you to answer me. Benji, Sybelle, Daniel, they’re safe. I’ve spoken to them. But you, I don’t know.”

He wrapped his arms around Armand, allowing the other to inspect him. “No, I did not feed recently,” he reassured him. “It’s been about two months or so.” He hoped this bit of information would be enough to calm Armand. “I am pleased to hear Sybelle and Benji are alright.” He paused. “Now what about you?”

Two months?! The notion almost worried Armand more than the first option. Though given Marius’s strength, this was likely affecting him very little. After inspecting his maker for a little moment more, he sagged with relief. Fine then, there was no chance he could be at risk.

Though Armand could not say the same for himself. He hadn’t thought of it, so concerned had he been with the others. “Last night in Paris...I’m sure it’s alright.”

Marius was not affected from going so long without blood much other than feeling slightly more fatigued than usual. It was nothing he couldn’t shake. He could go many weeks longer. “Yes...” He said although there was a voice in the back of his mind that nagged him. “I need you to make me a promise,” he said, breaking the short period of silence.

“What? Anything. You know I’ll not break a promise to you.” Armand spoke without skipping a beat. The tone in his maker’s voice was too solemn to think about. He slid his hands to his neck, before wrapping his arms about him entirely.

He pulled Armand even closer to him. “Do not hide anything from me. If you do not feel well, don’t be a hero.” He chose these words carefully. “Do you understand?”

Armand frowned softly, locking eyes with Marius. This was a hard promise to keep, his maker knew him well. He swallowed as Marius’s grip tightened on him. “I do. I can try,” he said quietly. “And you promise me the same. I know you hate to be vulnerable, hate to burden.”

Marius had no answer for him.

\---------------

Lestat had somehow managed to remember to snatch the jargon-filled paper off the table when he left the meeting room. After hearing all of Fareed’s instructions for how they were to manage this threat, he gave the orders to make sure everyone else in the court knew as well and for word to be spread to all their kind across the globe. Without Benji at his microphone, that would be more difficult than usual, but far from impossible. He’d left Rose a desperate voicemail, then one for Viktor and Antoine as well. Damn Gabrielle for not having a phone! Then Lestat went to find Louis.

He was surprised to discover him in the exact same place Lestat had left him before the meeting and immensely relieved to see him at all. “Thank hell, you haven’t gone out.”

“I just came back actually,” Louis said, not sure why the other was concerned. Usually Lestat was begging him to feed. His cheeks were a healthy pink. “Why?” he asked. “Is this some reverse psychology attempt?”

Lestat paled, now taking in all the obvious signs in Louis. “Where did you go?” he asked, his voice hushed. If he’d stayed far enough away from where Fareed lost the bat, there was much less chance that he’d risked contamination. The paper crunched in his hand.

“Not far, into Paris,” he said. “I needed to clear my head and thought some blood would help.” He tried to ascertain the situation from Lestat’s expression, but he had no such luck.

Was this bad? Lestat didn’t know. Where had Fareed gone? He needed to ask. He grasped Louis by the elbow as if afraid he’d disintegrate before him. “This,” he said, incoherently, offering Louis the paper. Louis was smarter than he was, maybe he could make sense of it. Damned if Lestat knew how to explain.

Louis looked at the paper covered in medical terminology. This was definitely beyond his realm of understanding, but the way Lettat held onto him told him that there was something bad on the horizon.

“How do you feel?” Lestat asked urgently. Would any symptoms even be apparent yet??

“Confused... concerned...” Louis listed as he handed the paper back. “What’s going on?”

Lestat pushed the paper back at Louis, as if him keeping it would serve as some talisman of protection. “Council meeting,” he tried to explain. “Fareed told us about a virus. In the blood. Mortals are the carriers.” He stared at Louis as if expecting him to grow a second head. “It affects us,” he added, suddenly realizing he’d left that important fact out. “Like rabies.”

Louis scanned the paper which only vaguely made sense when Lestat explained it to him. “There was a _council_ meeting and no one told me?” He couldn’t help but feel frustrated, but he wasn’t dumb enough to let this consume him while there were bigger problems. The familiar pang of fear brewed within him.

“There was a memo,” Lestat muttered, knowing he full well could have just told Louis to come with him when he left the parlor earlier and deliberately did the opposite of that.

Oh hell, if he hadn’t, Louis wouldn’t have gone out in the interim, and he wouldn’t have risked contamination!

Lestat stared at him in dismay. “But you’re fine,” he said in an intense whisper. “There’s no way it could have spread so quickly. There’s nothing to worry about. You’re fine.”

Louis had not read the memo he’d received earlier that evening, and now he regretted it. “Y-yes, I’m fine,” he repeated, stumbling over his words. He didn’t believe Lestat, but he wanted to.

Lestat nodded sternly in agreement. Louis said he was fine, so he was fine. Yes, good, done. They wouldn’t discuss it again. He took Louis by the arm then and pulled him to the door to leave the room. “Come on, we’ve got work to do.”

Louis did not have much time to process any of this for almost as soon as reality hit him, he was being pulled off by Lestat. “Where are we going?” he asked, though he knew he might regret this question.

Out in the corridor, Lestat started in the direction of the stairs that led up to the apartments belonging to the members of the court, keeping Louis’s arm as he set a brisk pace. “When you were living with Benji all those years, did you ever pay attention to how he did his internet radio broadcast?”

Louis followed, though he didn’t have much of a choice in his current position. “I did,” he said. “Why?” Of course he knew why, but at the same time he wanted to hear Lestat’s thoughts on the matter.

“Because we need it now.” He was relieved that Louis hadn’t answered in the negative, because damned if Lestat knew how to set up any of the equipment or connect to the website. And since Benji wasn’t here to be the voice of their people, Lestat would have to take care of it himself.

Up the stairs and down more endless corridors, he stopped at the door to Armand’s apartment where, until a last night, Benji had lived as well. He released Louis to try the door and found it locked. But after a moment of concentrating on it with the mind gift, he felt the bolt slip away.

Louis watched the door open, entering when it was safe to do so. “Lead the way,” he said, for he didn’t know where the equipment was stored.

Pausing just inside the door, Lestat glanced around the room. It had probably been months since he’d last been in here, and things looked different with all of Benji and Sybelle’s things packed away. It looked sadder, colder, emptier. He flipped on the lamp and then glanced at the fireplace, lighting it with his mind in an attempt to counteract the gloom.

“He didn’t take his equipment with him,” he said thoughtfully. “But where would they store it?” He crossed the room to a standing cabinet, a logical place to start, and began going through it.

Louis found himself becoming distracted by the surroundings. Somehow, this was exactly what he was expecting while still being a complete surprise. “Armand would know,” he pointed out. “It is his room, after all.”

“Well, he’s not here, is he?” Lestat waved Louis off toward the bedroom. “Make yourself useful and look in there.” Not finding anything in the cabinet, he moved onto an armoire on the other side of the room.

Louis could not argue with that logic. Though he would have asked Lestat to go find Armand then. But he didn’t. As usual, he did what he was told and started to look around the bedroom.

Lestat was in too much of a hurry to bother closing things up or putting things away as he looked, and by the time he eventually found the laptop, microphone and everything else, he’d made a bit of a mess.

“I’ve got it,” he called to Louis. “Get out of Armand’s bedroom and come help me with this.” Setting everything on the table by the window, he opened the computer and booted it up.

“His bedroom is different without him in it,” Louis muttered to get under Lestat’s skin.

The comment pierced straight through him enough to make Lestat’s entire body tense and he shot Louis a reproachful look. Nevertheless, Louis approached his maker and immediately helped set everything up. Lestat stepped back though to let him do his thing, folding his arms impatiently as he watched.

Louis frowned. “I don’t know his password.”

“Don’t you?” he asked, frustrated. “How many endless nights were you with him when he logged on. Surely, you picked it up from his thoughts at some point. Think.”

Louis tensed and fidgeted with a strand of hair. “I am thinking, and I’m telling you I do not know,” he retorted, becoming defensive. “I don’t make a habit of invading people’s thoughts.”

Lestat sighed in exasperation. He closed his eyes and concentrated on Benji, trying to reach out to him across the miles and let him know what they needed. But he couldn’t reach him. Opening his eyes, he swatted Louis’s shoulder lightly. “Call to Armand and ask if he knows it.”

“Why can’t you?” he snapped in response, although at the same time, he was trying to get Armand’s attention through the mind gift. _It_ _’s important,_ he urged.

Lestat’s jaw clenched. Things had been tense with Armand ever since everything that happened with Rhoshamandes. They’d never discussed all that since then, and Lestat wasn’t about to be the one to bridge that gap over something as inconsequential as a computer password. “Because,” was all he said, obviously uncomfortably tense, and he continued to wait for Louis to do it for him.

“I’ve already done it but he’s not answering,” he said. “Can’t the old ones broadcast the message with the mind gift? It could be a good contingency plan.”

“Yes, of course they can,” Lestat answered impatiently. But he still wanted to cover every possible base. These were his subjects, his people whose health were in danger.

Armand had not been far from them when he’d heard Louis’s call, and now he entered his apartment, furious with Lestat to find it unlocked, and even more furious to find it ransacked. Though the urgency of the mission was known to him immediately, and the desperation of Louis’s call came back to him.

“His password? You need his password?” Armand murmured, looking between the two and then to the equipment laid before them.

Lestat looked up sharply, though he was glad Armand had responded to the summons so quickly. Without even realizing what he was doing, he put a possessive hand down on Louis’s shoulder where he sat in the chair in front of him. “Yes, thank you,” he said to Armand. “If you please.”

Louis was astonished that Armand responded. Not because of Armand, but because his own mind gift was always a shock to him. “Thank you,” he said to Armand. “I am very sorry about your rooms.”

Armand waved his hand dismissively. He cared, yes, but not enough to burden Louis with it. If after sending out this broadcast his fury still remained, he knew who to take it up with.

“It’s Sybelle73.” He kept his voice low enough for nobody but those in the room to hear. Benji would be mortified if anyone got hold of such information

Leaning completely over Louis, his arms on either side of him, Lestat typed in the password. Then he straightened, but only slightly, still looking closely over Louis’s shoulder. “All right. Get it going. And then you’ll have to introduce me.”

Louis raised a brow as he started to set up the recording software. “No...I don’t do that,” he said firmly. “I am not one to make a spectacle of myself.”

Lestat turned his face to look at Louis’s profile. “No? You’re telling me no?”

Armand rolled his eyes. Well he certainly wasn’t one to do that either. But how could Louis hold onto this self-consciousness when so many lives were at risk? Without thinking, for the first time ever, Armand flicked the little button and began to broadcast on Benji’s channel.

“Attention everyone. This is not your beloved Benji. This is his keeper, Armand la Russe. And Lestat de Lioncourt has a vital message for all of our kind.” He spoke solemnly, conveying the seriousness of the situation in his tone.

Lestat glanced to him with a mixture of gratitude and frustration. Would it have killed Armand to use Lestat’s proper title? To remind all those vagabond blood drinkers out there exactly what he represented? He let Armand hear these thoughts as he took a seat at the table and slid the microphone over to himself.

He stared at it for a moment and then closed his eyes. His elbow on the table, he pressed his thumb between his brows as he thought. Whatever he said now would have an extreme impact on all their kind. What if he said the wrong thing? He was always saying the wrong thing. Should he urge everyone to come to the castle and quarantine in the east wing? Or would that make things worse? Was it selfish that he didn’t want them to? Wanted to keep this fortress secluded for only his nearest and dearest?

He was silent for a very long time, his other hand clutching the base of the microphone, and it seemed as if he might not end up speaking at all. But he could feel them out there. The thousands of vampires waiting with bated breath for their leader. So finally after yet another minute, he opened his eyes and began, his voice low and heavy with his inner burden. “This is your prince speaking...”

And he got right into it, explaining about the danger and the signs to look out for. Never once, though, did he mention anything about Fareed being at fault for it, leaving the virus’s origins a mystery. At the end, he urged his people not to panic, to report any suspected contraction immediately, and then for good measure, he said a solution was already in progress, even though that wasn’t exactly the truth.

As his maker spoke, Louis could feel what could be pride welling up inside him. It was not often that he was able to see Lestat so vulnerable. But it didn’t last.

When it was done, he nodded to Louis to shut it off. Lestat looked exceedingly tired. And even though he felt Armand’s presence like a weight on his shoulders, his eyes lingered on Louis with concern.

Louis ended the broadcast. “I’m fine,” he muttered under his breath. “Just tired.”

Armand had understood the weight of what Lestat had just experienced, and for once in their relationship had managed to bite his tongue and step back. He might have placed a hand upon his shoulder in comfort, but he knew it would not be appreciated. And any qualms Lestat had with him over improperly announcing him, well they could be dealt with after this mess. It was not in his nature to call another Prince, especially not Lestat, who he had known too well and for too long.

Pushing back from the table a little, Lestat put his feet up against the edge and wrapped his arms around his knees. Louis’s tired reply made him worry even more than before, but he tried to push those feelings down. “Of course you are,” he murmured, willing it to be true.

Shaking his head out as if to clear some thought from it, Lestat looked up at Armand behind him. He looked rather pink as well, and Lestat wondered when he’d last ate. “Well, that’s done with,” he said with heavy sigh. Then he looked back at Louis again. “We’ve got two dozen mortals belowground. You won’t need to go out again.” He said it as if expecting Armand to back him up with equal concern for Louis’s wellbeing.

“Stop it!” Louis looked at Lestat in return. “I’m not a child to be coddled,” he snapped. His mind went back to the argument they had earlier. His eyes were daggers. Deep down, he felt bad, but the sea of rage was difficult, near impossible to cross. He knew Letstat worried. Yet, no words came out to apologize nor soften this blow. “I’m going out,” he murmured.

Armand looked up at Louis in surprise. It seemed his months away had thinned his patience even further. Usually Lestat’s eyes, or his own were ablaze with this sort of anger. From Louis, usually a cool glance.

Lestat stared. “Louis...” He couldn’t say more for a moment, too hurt.

Armand did not feel it was his place to say anything, but when had that stopped him before? “Louis, you can’t go out. Not now. If you need your space, sit in the library or something. If you decide to run off out of anger into the thick of danger, then you only further present yourself as a child in need of coddling.”

Lestat glanced up appreciatively. Louis never listened to him, but maybe he would to Armand. The last words made him cringe inwardly, though, knowing Louis wouldn’t take them well. He stood up from the table and tucked his chair in. “You heard what I told them.” He gestured to the microphone. “We all must do the same.”

Louis tensed. His inner rage boiled, but he kept it pushed down. He stood up to leave but didn’t move. “I know you’re not wrong.” He folded his arms behind his back. “But I can make my own choices.” This last statement was not something he wanted to say.

“Then make the right one, Louis, for all of us.” Armand spoke firmly, his tone a combination of warning and concern. “We need you.”

Lestat had never considered independence to be so important to Louis... But first his months-long journey, and now this outburst... Lestat worried that if he did anything more to make him feel this way, Louis would go off on his own again and for who knows how long this time... “Or if you must go out,” he said trying to sound accommodating, “then let me come with you at least.”

Louis looked between them. He managed to calm himself enough to think relatively rationally again. He exhaled and shook his head. “No... You’re both right. I was being rash. I don’t know what came over me.”

Armand quirked a brow, looking Louis over once. “And you’ve not fed tonight?” he asked concernedly. Fareed had said irritability, that might be one of the symptoms. But Louis had been away for so long, who even knew anymore?

“Of course he hasn’t,” Lestat answered Armand, lying so smoothly it was impossible to detect.

Turning fully to him, Lestat put a hand on Armand’s shoulder and gave him a kiss on the cheek that was half goodbye, half an apology for making a mess of his room. “Leave all this out, would you?” He gestured to Benji’s things. “I have the feeling we’ll need it again. Come, Louis,” he said, putting an arm around his shoulder and taking him to the door in the nicest way he could so as not to set him off again. “We’ve intruded on Armand long enough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel I should put a little warning here about the next chapter. It's 11,000 words long, but is all one, continuous scene, so I didn't think I should split it up. It's also where the explicit smut comes in. Spoilers, the canon rules about mortal sex for vampires are disregarded in this story. These vampires fuck like humans. Enjoy! :D


	3. Connection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daniel channels his inner Marius to reconnect with Armand.  
> Explicit smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although most of this story will be pretty canon-accurate, the rules about vampires not having/enjoying mortal sex shall be disregarded. Sorrynotsorry. Call the canon police.  
> I am sorry, though, that this chapter is so long. I thought about splitting it in half and making it 2 chapters, but I couldn't make it work. Most of the chapters will be closer to the 4000-6000-word range.

Armand had gone to Daniel as swiftly as he had been able. Since finally moving in to the castle a few days ago after years of independence, his fledgling had taken a bedroom that connected to Marius's suite. Armand made quick work of the lock with the mind gift. If Daniel resented the intrusion, he would make it known. But at this moment, Armand needed to be with his loved ones. Especially with two of them now so far away. Those present needed to be cherished, and held close to him as he had never seen fit to. 

He closed the door behind him and turned to his fledgling. “I’ll not squat under your window, this night. I’ll enter if you allow it.” He spoke quietly.

Daniel lowered the lid of his laptop, only slightly startled by the intrusion. He couldn’t say Armand was the most sensitive when it came to personal space but having him whirlwind in was still unexpected. Welcome, though. Daniel could sense the tension in the castle, even though he’d closed his mind to the chatter to focus on his writing, figuring if anything was important, he’d be told. 

“Trouble on the streets, then?” he asked, raising one eyebrow and sliding further over on his couch to make room for his maker.

“Daniel, this is very serious,” Armand said almost gruffly. As gruff as his usually delicate voice could allow. He looked down upon him, unable to maintain any sort of composure. “There is a virus. I don’t understand it still. We are not immune to it. When earlier I asked you if you’d fed, that was why. Do not. Please.”

Daniel took a moment to process this, because “virus” held little meaning for him since he was turned, unless it was something on his computer. 

“You mean like a flu virus or something? Like a ‘makes us sick’ virus?” he asked, still struggling to turn the gears as Armand nodded. “...Ok, but Armand, for how long? I didn’t feed tonight but I can’t go as long as you can. Just a few days or so, right?”

Armand startled at this. Of course. His Danny was so young. Not even a century, still far off it. How in the world would he survive now? He couldn’t drink from him, not now. Not with how recently Armand had fed.

“There are some mortals we keep here. If you’re desperate, you might feed from them. But I need you to hold back as much as you can, my love. I need you to promise me that. And you cannot have my blood, now.”

Maybe he’d been gone too long, but he could remember precious few times where Armand seemed so outright concerned. Daniel turned himself on the couch, reaching forward one slightly awkward hand to take Armand’s, small and cool against his palm.

“Hey, come on, it can’t be that big a deal huh?” He said easily, tucking a loose coil of Auburn hair behind Armand’s ear. “I mean we’ve got Fareed. He’s, like, genius level, he’ll take care of whatever this is right? But yeah, I promise I won’t eat, but you can’t be short with me if I get cranky, huh?”

“Fareed brought this upon us,” Armand said bluntly. If there was any bitterness to his tone, he did not mean for it to seep through. Though Fareed had done this, he’d seemed so regretful and so fearful. But still, it was a foolish move. Armand was torn. He allowed Daniel’s ministrations to distract him from it, let Daniel envelop his hand with his own. “Just try, my love. That’s all I ask. And let me know if the craving gets too intense, promise me that. We will work out a solution then, between us.”

Daniel gave his hand a tighter squeeze, stroking the back of it with his thumb, reading the anxiety clearly on Armand’s soft face. He looked distant, and Daniel had to wonder if he was worrying after his Benji and Sybelle....and if that same anxiety really _was_ extended to him as well.

“...Hey, c’mere you little shit,” he finally said, and grabbed hold of Armand’s arm to pull him over and onto his lap, snorting at the look of surprised outrage on his face. “Come on, they’re gonna work this out fine, ok? It’s still early, we can’t do anything about this. Why don’t we put on a movie or something huh? Like old times?”

Armand’s eyes flashed with unabashed rage. Where had this behavior come from? Had Marius’ countenance and power rubbed off on him a little too much? Why was it that not so long ago he had been brought onto his maker’s lap, and now he was upon his own fledgling’s lap? It should not have worked like this. Despite Armand’s common enjoyment of being controlled, this was not the time for it. He moved straight off of his lap and further away. 

“This is a virus that can affect our kind,” he said slowly, as if Daniel were incapable of comprehending it. “Fire may no longer be our only enemy. No, it does not put me in the mood for a film.”

Daniel drew his hand back a little, feeling...almost foolish. He reached up, stroking the back of his hand down Armand’s cheek apologetically.

“Ok...no, I get it...sorry, I just thought maybe you could use a distraction? I mean, if you just wanted to check up on me that’s fine, promise I won’t eat anything, ok? ...We could go for a walk together? Maybe a nap? You look like shit when you’re worried, you know that?”

Armand scoffed at this. He pulled away from Daniel’s touch. Their existence potentially hung in the balance, and he had the audacity to tell him he looked uncomely? It brought to mind why they had not worked well together decades ago. Daniel had a penchant for inappropriate humor that Armand did not. He folded his arms, eyes bright and wild with indignation. 

“Save your breath, Daniel. You’ve only an eternity to breathe it,” he said spitefully, not attempting to calm himself for his fledgling. “I need to keep you safe. That is all.”

Daniel grew quiet a moment, chewing the inside of his cheek and longing again for a smoke.

“I’m ok.” He shrugged, still trying to find the right voice to placate Armand. Besides, he still couldn’t really wrap his head around something like a virus truly making them sick. He would have to ask Fareed about it himself later. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to try and cheer you up...I remember your obsessions, boss, and I know they aren’t all as harmless as buying blenders to make me 3am smoothies.”

Daniel didn’t like Armand being so far away...true, it was like two feet, but they had way too many miles already, and he reached for him again, more gentle this time, an arm over his shoulders to offer a warm hollow against his chest.

Armand’s shoulders sagged slightly at this. Why was Daniel so persistent? Could he not see that he was pushing him away out of anger? Regardless of his desire to be held. And how could he be so damn gentle, and nice? To what end? 

“I won’t bite your head off if I am unhappy Daniel, you don’t have to placate me,” he muttered lowly, disgruntled by his fledgling’s kindness. Despite his pride, he could see that there was nothing but a genuine desire to help radiating from Daniel. “Fine. Perhaps Time Bandits. Or a Monty Python film. I’ve not watched Holy Grail since we lived together.” He relented.

Daniel’s breath of laughter ruffled Armand’s curls, and he took the boyish vampire into his arms for a moment, just for a tight, passing squeeze...strange, how cold he always felt to him when Daniel was human but now that his own skin was so cool, he barely noticed it in his maker.

Folding open his laptop, Daniel dug around his digital library for Monty Python, wondering if Armand would still cackle with delight as he had those decades ago, blood dripping from his eyes as he rolled around on hotel sheets—

Of course, rolling on hotel sheets had multiple memories **ascribed** for Daniel, but he didn’t dare dwell on this. Instead, he leaned back as the movie started, still offering a spot for Armand to be close if he wanted.

And Daniel, for his part, hoped he’d take the offer.

Armand leant reluctantly into the embrace, and he _reluctantly_ took the spot close to Daniel. And _reluctantly_ slid under his arm, nestling against his chest. Of course, he wanted these things, wanted them all. But it was a matter of pride. And soon he found himself biting back the laughter. In fact, the rolling credits had been the culprit of it. “I hate you, that you know me so well,” he muttered.

“There are so many better things to get pissy about, you know?” Daniel asked, reaching up to ruffle the curls beneath Armand’s ear for a moment. “You stalked my ass from San Fran to Tokyo, of course I learned how to read you ...and I mean. Read your book too. Helped me figure out why you’re 9 kinds of crazy.”

Daniel Molloy was 65 years old but some lessons he would never learn. He always figured if Armand hadn’t killed him as a mortal, he wasn’t about to go for blood now. Should Armand learn just how many times he’d read his maker’s memoir, till it fell to bits with use, well _then_ he might get agitated, but Daniel would take any risks right now if it meant a little time with Armand.

Armand bristled all over again at this. That he was in such a vulnerable state of affairs, that Daniel would dare to call him crazy for only expressing concern. And dare to tussle his hair as if he were a boy? His fist clenched against the fabric of Daniel’s shirt. If it didn’t, he might have smacked him. “If you don’t silence yourself sensibly, Daniel I’ll show you all nine kinds.”

“Oh, awesome, because my bingo card only has five. I’m still missing getting so drunk you fall into a fucking river, howling at a crucifix, picking bugs out of your hair and renaissance orgies,” he listed off, deadass ticking each on his fingers. “Plenty of the stalking, blood addiction, teenage mood swings, OCD and trauma though.”

Daniel Molloy was not well known for his good life choices. Maybe that’s why he made a half decent vampire.

Armand could not stop himself. He struck Daniel, hard on the chest. He withdrew from him. Perhaps another time he could handle his fledgling’s reckless sense of humor, but not now. 

“You are insolent, Daniel. And you do not know when to stop,” he muttered, standing as he did. “You may finish this film alone.”

 _Shit shit shit_ , ok, bad call. Daniel was light on his feet, using his own skill to overtake the deliberately slow and mortal steps Armand was taking, blocking the door from his room.

Well. More or less. Despite being bigger and physically appearing older than Armand, Daniel knew his sire could break his forearm like a twig, set him on fire if he wanted. He was still no more a match for Armand than he’d been as a mortal.

“Hey hey, come on boss, don’t be so hasty!” he implored, trying to make himself a barricade. “You’re too uptight right now. You leave and what you gonna go do? Break some shit to get Marius’ attention? He’s probably busy as hell right now. And if you’re alone you’re just gonna sulk. So stay with me.”

And it wasn’t a suggestion. Maybe his brain had wanted it to sound like one but his tongue didn’t get the memo.

“DANIEL!” Armand boomed. Every word that came out of his fledgling’s mouth incensed him. Had he always been this defiant, challenging, mocking? Is that what drew him to him initially? Who could know? It had been too long. “How dare you call me uptight?!” He’d already raised his hand as if to strike again. Where had he learned this trait? “Stay with you? You’re lucky if you’ll see me for a month after this!” he snapped. He still made no attempt to push past Daniel.

And that was the only thing keeping Daniel’s balls from retreating in cowardice because oh _lord_ Armand had fire in his eyes. Armand was strong, far more so than Daniel, yet he made no move.

“You don’t do well alone, Armand,” Daniel said a little more firmly, trying to put a confidence in his voice that he didn’t really feel. But Armand was not the only one worried about those in his bloodline this night. “Come on, go sit down. You’re upset and distressed and if you purse your lips any harder you’re gonna cut yourself open on your own fangs again.”

“Shut up!” Armand hissed after a long moment, turning away from Daniel and plonking himself down on the sofa perhaps a little _too_ childishly for his own good. “I told ,I hate you. Stop it. Stop reading me. Do something else now, or I’ll away with you,” he snapped with no small amount of frustration.

Daniel adored it when Armand got that uppity, when he stood there in jeans and hoodies and sneakers and ranted on with the high airs of an elderly socialite. 

Of course, there was also the small satisfaction of having gotten his way, a totally selfish thrill. He meant it; Armand on his own scared him. Perhaps not in a suicide watch kind of way, but in a ‘nobody wants to find him breaking walls with his fists or dissociating for hours’ sort of way.

So here was best. Here where Daniel could ease back onto the couch and wait to see if Armand would come snuggle again when he decided to stop being so angry at him for five minutes.

“I said do something else, not sit there like a lifeless mannequin,” Armand quipped. He was bitter, and furious. “Where is all your bark now? You’ve been playing dominant all night, Daniel. Suddenly you’ve lost your bravado,” he spat. His back was turned to his fledgling still. If Daniel wanted to say hideous things and act as though he had this power over him, sit at the big boys’ table as it were, then he should follow through with it at least.

…Well, if the brat was going to play games with him, Daniel could play right back, and before he could think better of it he reached forward, clasping a hand firmly on Armand’s shoulder and pulling him back in one quick motion, pinning him down to the couch in front of Daniel’s lap.

Looking at him upside down from the angle, Daniel couldn’t hinder the laughter welling up from his chest. “Is this better, you little brat?”

“Idiot. Charlatan. A true dominant presence would never giggle like a schoolboy.” Armand turned his gaze away from Daniel indignantly, voice cold. Surely Daniel knew, after reading his memoir, that Armand expected more than a hand to the shoulder.

Oh, he did, playful as he liked to be Daniel wasn’t completely clueless, and it felt quite satisfying to clench Armand’s jaw in his hand and force his face back upwards to look at him, fingernails digging into soft cheeks. “You’re just too adorable when you’re mad, little cherub, I can’t help it.”

Armand met Daniel’s eyes for the first time in a while. He made a point of not being affected by the prick in his skin as Daniel drew the smallest amount of blood. “Cherub?” He spoke quietly. “Do you fancy yourself a little protégé to Marius after all these years, in calling me that?”

“I lived with the man for twenty years, I picked up a little more than just painting skills, I promise.” And he grinned as Armand’s eyes widened just the smallest bit, but he spoke again before Armand had a chance to interrupt.

“Now, Armand, if you like, you could stay with me a while longer, let everyone else sort out this mess till you’re needed. I’m bored, you’re a bitch. And I missed you.” And rather than another smile or quick kiss, he clenched his hand a little harder, the scent of more of Armand’s blood reaching him.

Armand’s pulse leapt a little at the force with which Daniel held his face. Though the spark of blood lust in Daniel’s eyes brought him from it. 

“No Danny, don’t!” he said frantically. He tore his hand away effortlessly, rising and putting a great distance between them. “Don’t go for this blood. I fed last night, this virus, it is transmitted that way. I’ll stay. Only, don’t bite me tonight.”

It was a painful request, when the smell was so rich and so sweet and he hadn’t tasted his maker’s blood in so long...but fine. This was fine. Already the scratches were healing over, the blood wiped away. Safe, then. Or at least Daniel was.

He brought himself to Armand this time, his broad hand spread nearly all the way across Armand’s chest as he shoved him back and pinned him to the cushions, his hair fanning auburn all around him.

“That’s fine, I can go without.” He smiled, watching and feeling Armand give the slightest wiggle beneath him to test his strength. “But if you get to tease me smelling so good, it’s only fair I tease back.”

Armand drew his eyes up to meet Daniel’s, slowly, languorously, though he hadn’t meant to make a show of it at all. The returning panic of considering this virus had consumed his mind, and he’d given Daniel a window of opportunity. He let himself feel as a mortal might then, under a larger man. And truly, how much weaker was Daniel than him now? If in those two decades he had been receiving a healthy supply of Marius’ blood? “What would you know about teasing me, Daniel? Don’t tell me my maker has divulged these secrets to you?”

“I don’t need Marius to tell me what the two of you do in bed to get an idea,” he said evenly, and eased forward to drag his legs on either side of Armand’s narrow hips, evening out the weight he held him with. “What part of I read your book don’t you understand? And you think I don’t see the way the two of you act when you think the court isn’t looking? Glancing to your Master like you need permission to speak? The hell did you say to be given a gag order huh? Or the way you rub your wrists or limp after leaving his room?”

And with his free hand Daniel let his fingers reach down, beneath Armand’s shirt, and finger the buckle of his leather belt. “I know what one of these snapping sounds like.”

“You speak with such insolence, my love.” Armand spoke almost fondly, eyes never leaving Daniel’s as he thought. He steeled his reaction against Daniel’s ministrations, and schooled his face against the blush that threatened it at the thought that Daniel paid attention to such things. “But if you truly wish to play this role, I’ll allow it. Ask Lestat what I’ve said that requires me gagged, he could give you a whole thesis.”

“I’ve heard how you run your mouth. Same shit as when you used to go off back with me huh? Your temper get you in trouble still, little Armand?...Or are you too loud in bed to be trusted?” He brought his hand up again, this time tapping his finger against Armand’s plush lips as if scolding him.

Armand would have laughed gently at this, were his lips not currently guarded. And so what, Daniel had happened upon one thing that he liked. This would change nothing. Playing along with this game, he decided he wouldn’t speak until Daniel removed his finger. Instead he said everything he needed to say with his eyes. That he would run his mouth until the sun claimed him, that it would take a force far greater than Daniel to stop it, but that Daniel was welcome to try.

This was hardly the first time Daniel had been intimate with Armand, and it was hardly the first time he’d been playfully dominant in bed either, but it was his first time in a long while, and he knew Armand could hear his heart beating quickly in his chest. How could he help it? Armand was stunningly beautiful, an obscene mix of innocence and a face waiting to be debauched, wanting it. God, Daniel wanted to bite him, but he could make due with other carnal pleasures.

Daniel reached for Armand’s wrists and, using his only real advantage of size, he held them both in one hand and pinned then above Armand’s head, gripping them just tight enough to hear the slightest breath of a gasp.

Armand breathed a little heavier at this, pulse jumping as he looked into Daniel’s eyes. He kept his face the picture of innocence, the way he knew men liked when they loomed over him in this way. He allowed Daniel to feel triumph in his own size, his own broadness against Armand. Though now he could be free with words again, and he wondered how long this innocence would last. “What will you do with me, Danny?”

Immediately Daniel’s head was filled with images, red velvet and the crack of a whip, Armand’s plump ass and pale thighs marked with bloody whip marks, tears streaming down his face...again, thank God Armand needn’t know how often he’d read that book, mind crowded with both lust and guilt. 

“I don’t like how you speak to me, Armand, when your reaction to anything you don’t like is to bristle up and hiss at me like a tom cat,” he said simply, holding Armand’s soft brown eyes with his own. He moved his hand up from the buckle of his belt to draw over his belly and then his chest, scratching just enough to be felt without drawing blood. Still keeping his eyes, he found one small, soft nipple and gave it a sharp pinch.

Armand would have rolled his eyes, had the action not elicited a small gasp of pleasure from him and sent a shiver through his spine. “What has that to do with anything, now? I asked you a question.”

The weight of Armand’s sweater drug over his hand as he withdrew his touch from Armand’s body, and before he had time to rethink it, he drew his arm back and slapped Armand sharply, once, across his cheek, watching the soft curve grow immediately pink, his eyes squeezing closed as the blow tossed his head to the side against the couch cushions. It was hardly a powerful blow, not anywhere near his full strength, but it was enough to shock them both, to shock Armand, and something in Daniel preened as his lover lay still. “Oh, I’m sorry, little boy, were you under the impression that you’d be the one asking questions tonight?”

Armand looked indignantly up at Daniel, eyes ablaze with the audacity of the attack. His wrists were caught still, he could have broken free, hit back. But part of him loved it. Hell, most of him did. “So what, I am to lie here as you tell me all the things you hate about me and my behavior? If that is your idea of a good night, Daniel I’ll seek my pleasure elsewhere.”

Daniel pressed harder on his wrists, causing Armand’s back to arch and his chest to bow. “Oh, I could read off an absolute litany of your sins but let me handle one issue at a time, little Armand,” he said, somehow gaining confidence as he went. He rolled his hips once against Armand’s, grinning as he watched Armand try to hide any delight he took in such action.

“Tell you what, Armand. I’ll give you one chance to leave if you _really want to_. I’m going to sit up, and you can choose. Go back to your rooms if you don’t want this. Or, if you do, stand up, take off your belt and hand it to me.” Right then nothing could seem more erotic to Daniel than seeing Armand have to admit his own desire for him.

Armand hated this. Hated it all. Hated that Daniel had clearly done his research, and still remembered well enough how to set his body alight with every small gesture. He hated most of all that he enjoyed this. That the request put him in mind of Marius, though Marius would sooner use his own belt. And so it seemed that Daniel had become this twisted amalgamation of the two of them, with all Marius’ dominance and all of Armand’s slyness. He looked into Daniel’s eyes. He knew that nothing would please him more than submission at this moment, that perhaps this need to dominate, to ravage, was borne of frustration from neglect. That perhaps he wanted to punish Armand for leaving him. Well fine. Armand had been punished before, and he would be damned to say that he’d ever neglected to please a lover in bed. So he did it. He stood, and he removed his belt, and he handed it to Daniel, all the while maintaining his gaze.

Daniel accepted the token with a pleased smile, feeling a warm thrill run through his whole body. Spreading his thighs he reached forward and yanked Armand to kneel between them, his own form so tall and lanky that even sitting he came up to Armand’s chin. “There’s a good boy,” he cooed, easing his sweater up again to kiss the comparatively warm skin he found there, pale and smooth under his lips.

Armand sighed at the gesture, growing comfortable kneeling in his position. He felt almost safe in it, for what could Daniel truly do to hurt him? “Did you miss me, Danny?” he murmured, breath hitching at Daniel’s advances. Just the caress of his lips was enough. He slid his arms around Daniel’s neck.

“Desperately,” Daniel confessed against his lover’s sweet skin, running the tip of his tongue up Armand’s breastbone, feeling him shudder. He let the leather belt lie across his leg as he reached for Armand’s jeans, undoing the button and pulling down the zipper as he kissed. One hand tugged gently at his waistband as the other slid around his waist and slipped down the back to cup his ass, already wanting to see it reddened.

It was easy to get him undressed, pulling his jeans down around his knees, and he looked up, wondering if he would find his lover needy, humiliated, or simply thrilled.

The confession if nothing else was enough to bring a heat to Armand’s complexion. He couldn’t help it. He was a slut for it, for attention, for love. Always had been. That was what had sparked the true vulnerability, alit a train of whimpers that escaped his lips as Daniel undressed him. He was not humiliated, but needy and thrilled. It was written all over his face. “How desperately, Danny?”

Oh, Daniel really wished he would shut up, and wondered what he did look like properly gagged, to shut him the hell up.

Rather than giving a verbal response, he stood instead, slowly, keeping Armand’s eye and watching as he had to tip his head back to keep up with Daniel’s superior height.

And he struck his hand forward again, tripping Armand’s throat just behind the jaw, squeezing just to get his attention and bring his face up for a kiss. Not nearly as deep as Armand would like, he was sure, in fact it was almost a brief, chaste trace of tongue over lips, but it was enough to make Armand’s heart speed up.

And speed up, it did. He moaned perhaps a little too wantonly for such a small gesture. He made an effort to claim Daniel’s lips for his own, careful not to draw blood, though he wondered how far the attempt would get him. Daniel did not seem to be in a generous mood. But he would never shut up. “Don’t tell me I’ve lost my belt for nothing?” he purred.

Daniel squeezed tighter, an act that did nothing to make him light headed but that didn’t matter. It thrilled Daniel, feeling him struggle to swallow beneath his grip.

“You’re so fucking inpatient you know that? Too much time spent in those damn brothels.” With a final tight grip he shoved Armand back just a step, reached down to the couch and picked up the supple leather belt. “Finish stripping,” he said bluntly, doubling the belt in half in his palm. “Now.”

Armand’s breath was labored as Daniel removed his hand, a fact he’d never admit out of pride. He looked up at the younger vampire, before picking up the hem of his sweater and slowly raising it up his torso. He stretched indulgently as he did, emphasizing every contour of his body, every flutter of the small, but firm muscles he’d accumulated before death. He let the wool of the sweater catch on his nipples as he did, brushing them to hardness as he removed the garment entirely. And then he did away with the rest of his clothes in much the same manner, putting on a grand show for Daniel. He’d have him falling at his feet without a word, they both knew who had the power here. Even face down on the mattress with Daniel’s cock pounding into him, Armand still had the power here. Because Daniel wanted him too much. He locked eyes again with Daniel, hands knotting behind his back patiently. “What now, _boss_?” he murmured smugly.

Daniel’s’ brain was instantly awash with possibilities, his read knowledge mixing with memories of hotel rooms and the grand suites of the Night Island, where Armand had always led their games. Always led from one country to another, led their playmates home for Daniel to take…

It had been so, _so_ fucking long.

Daniel rewarded him with a deeper kiss, slower, gentle even, making Armand have to press himself into the balls of his feet to reach. And just as he felt Armand sigh into his mouth, he drew a hand back and slapped the top of one of Armand’s thighs, hard and sharp, making him stumble forward against Daniel’s chest.

“How many times would Marius whip you for mouthing off?” he asked over Armand’s indignant noises. “And I’ll ask around if I think you’ve lied.”

Armand whimpered, stabilizing himself against Daniel’s chest with his hands. He’d simply not expected it. He locked eyes with him, searching for any sign of mirth, that any moment he might sit himself back down and continue the movie. But there was nothing but an almost feral glare. He was committed to this. 

“It depended on the severity of the crime.” He spoke sweetly, making deft work of opening Daniel’s shirt while he was distracted by his gaze.

Daniel shivered once as Armand’s cold fingers brushed against the skin of his chest, and he enjoyed it enough to let Armand continue, sliding the shirt down his arms to join his own tossed aside clothes on the floor. Kisses laid to his own chest were welcome as he held Armand tight, wanting to dig his own nails into the skin of Armand’s hip and waist.

“Well, you pissed me the hell off, barging into my room only to try and leave again. That’s your game right, tease me and leave me?” And no, there was absolutely not a hint of a sour note in the accusation, and if there was it was easily buried beneath his rising lust.

Armand was surprisingly easy to drag around tonight, either from surprise or willingness, and a sharp fist in his curls yanked his head back to look up at Daniel. “Go lie on my bed. Face down. And don’t try rutting on it, you horny little freak.”

Armand hissed at the sudden pain. It was still all so new, unexpected. “I didn’t tease you, Danny!” he said almost urgently. He looked into Daniel’s eyes, his own eyes filled with hurt at the insinuation. “I wanted you to be okay, and you laughed at me. You teased me.” He didn’t mean to ruin the moment, truly, but Daniel’s words sliced him like a knife. He had been so inconsiderate this whole night. Even the use of this term, freak, that usually might have incensed his lust, only pained him instead.

Daniel was quiet a moment, struggling to read his eyes, the slight quiver to his lips, and thought perhaps it was a genuine sadness to him. He loosened the furl of his grip, stroking through his hair a little more gently, and kissed his forehead.

“I’m sorry, if my teasing goes too far…been a while, boss,” he said, an awkward apology considering their tempers might be flared but he could still hear the quickness in Armand’s heart and the warmth of his cock against Daniel’s thigh. 

…He could work with this. Bending down, this time to meet Armand’s height, he kissed him again, still wary of fangs and still wishing to bite.

“How about this, angel,” he murmured against his lips. “Let me see Daniel sitting with Armand later as Armand spends hours and hours etching a vase, watching his fingers trace lines? Let me show you how much I missed you.”

Armand sighed lightly into the kiss. He shook his head, pulling away and shaking off his hurt. He’d given Daniel that belt and he’d be damned if he backed out of it now. “I want you to do what you were going to do. Just, no more horrid names. I’m too sensitive for that tonight.”

“Whatever you need, my prince,” he said, hoping such a pet name was the right sort of teasing, the indulgent sort that night make him laugh a bit rather than upset him. Daniel was no Marius - his desires overlapped - but he was unsure yet how... _violent_...he could be. Though he was curious to find out.

To soothe his would-be lover a little further, Daniel, taken on a whim, wrapped his hands right around Armand’s waist and hoisted him up to hold, intent on carrying him the short distance to their room, kissing his neck the whole way.

Armand allowed himself a very small laugh at this. Again, it was unexpected. Everything Daniel had done this night was unexpected. He adored it. He couldn’t recall if Daniel had ever tried to lift him. He braced himself on Daniel’s shoulders, tilting his neck further back to allow his fledgling better access. “Just remember, no biting,” he breathed, voice caught in a moan as Daniel hit a sensitive spot.

Daniel gave a little growl at that, half annoyed at Armand for being such a worrier and half frustrated because God he wanted it, he wanted Armand’s blood as viciously now as he had years ago as a mortal boy in his thrall. But he resisted, and he gave one final soft kiss to the hollow of his throat before all but tossing Armand onto his bed, watching the surprise across his sweet face. But before Armand could voice his indignity, Daniel moved, grabbing his shoulder and flipping him over onto his belly.

Armand gasped as he was pushed onto his front. He’d very nearly thanked Daniel for listening to him, for obliging his worries. He’d retract that now. Daniel was clearly eager to test out his new violent streak, now was no longer the time to be gentle, or loving. “What will you do with me, Danny? Now that you have free reign of me?” he asked silkily.

Free reign. Hardly, Daniel thought, though the words warmed him low in his belly. Marius was the only one could claim near to such a thing, he was no Master of this beautiful, deadly creature.

He didn’t answer right away, too eager to enjoy the scene, the dimples of Armand’s lower back, just above the curve of his ass, the way the muscles of his back rippled delightfully under his touch.

He’d kept the short belt wrapped around his palm this whole time, and let it uncoil now, the soft clink of metal reaching his ears as it landed between Armand’s shoulder blades.

Armand’s breath hitched with anticipation as the metal tumbled to his skin. It was cool, hard, unyielding. All things he was used to. It sent a shiver down his spine. For the moment he decided not to speak, wondering if Daniel’s actions might do the talking.

Daniel let the cold metal drag across Armand’s smooth skin, down his spine and to the cleft of his ass before winding it back up into his hand. 

It wasn’t like he’d never done this before. Something so basic was hardly considered kinky even, and he had his share of lovers. But this was Armand, this was his maker, this was his half crazed little devil who was more experienced by 17 than Daniel was at 65.

...But he was so damn cute, such a beautiful thing, and Daniel couldn’t help the surge of possession in him, of wanting to be the one, this time at least, to give Armand what he wanted. So he doubled the belt up in his hand, holding the end and buckle tight. Keeping a firm hand between his shoulders he brought it down, once, on the top of Armand’s thighs, shivering the moment he heard it snap.

Armand tensed against the blow, the uncertainty of when it might or might not fall somehow increasing the pain. He balled his fists into the bed sheets. Honestly, it was not a bad first attempt. He’d had it much worse, and much harder, and this hadn’t even drawn blood. Which for Daniel’s sake he was glad of. Still, it sent shockwaves through his body, and he could not deny himself a small shiver of pleasure. 

“Good, Danny,” he praised, seeming far too much the teacher in this situation. “A word of advice, though, if I may...use the buckle,” he offered lowly, voice almost husky with the pleasure the thought incited within him.

Daniel appraised the boy beneath him, then looked to the belt in his hand. Of course it wouldn’t really hurt him, not with as strong and as old as Armand was, but the thought still jolted him all the same. But he did as asked, readjusting his grip on the belt and on Armand, reaching to grab hold of his hair. He pressed his face into the rumbled covers just a moment before swinging down, hard, the metal buckle striking the soft flesh of Armand’s ass with enough force to leave a brilliant red mark.

Armand gasped at this, a moan passing his lips for the first time. He bit his lip, before he could stop himself he’d torn into it. Damn it all. He buried his head in the bed sheet. All blood rushed to his groin. “More, harder, please,” he whined.

It took some self-assurance from Daniel that Armand liked this, that even as a semi punishment he loved being slapped around and beaten and forced down.

Fine. Daniel was developing a taste for feeling in control...so many damned years without it...he brought the belt down again across his ass, and a second snap before he’d caught his breath from the first, and felt Armand trying to arch his back up. “Stay the fuck down,” he growled, tightening the fist in his hair.

Armand cried out at this, feeling an inkling of fear for the first time since this had all started. Who cared if Daniel was younger or weaker than him? The animalism in his tone was enough to make him believe otherwise. True to his penchant for trouble, though, he arched his back further up, despite Daniel’s orders. He wanted to test the waters. “Talk to me, Daniel,” he pleaded.

“You’re cute when you beg,” Daniel said with a chuckle to his voice, leaning down low so Armand could feel his breath. Another snap, and he heard Armand groan between clenched teeth; it felt fucking powerful to be able to manipulate him like this.

When Armand tried to stretch out of reach of another spanking, Daniel laid the belt across the back of his calves, not as hard but still enough to hurt. 

“You’ll stay still for me or I’ll tie you down,” he warned, feeling his groin ache and wanting his own jeans off. “And if I have you tied down I don’t think I would be inclined to let you up soon.”

“That’s the only way you’ll keep me still,” Armand retorted, face a bloody, heated mess, the sheer tightness of Daniel’s grip causing his length to twitch. 

“Tell me, my love, how many times did you read my memoir? How many times did you imagine yourself in this position, _his_ position? Did you ache for me then when I was so far away, Danny? Did you spill your seed to half of the excerpts?” Daniel, of course, had inherited his penchant for not knowing when to shut up from his maker. Armand didn’t care. He said all this with a devilish smirk, his voice rich with arousal. His appearance did not currently match his air of superiority.

Daniel groaned softly, his violet eyes fluttering closed at the filth pouring from his mouth. “I did,” he confessed to his little priest, and couldn’t help but rut himself gently against Armand’s hip. “God, I felt like I’d missed such an opportunity when I had you. Didn’t know how badly you needed this.” And he lay his sharpest blow yet across the softest part of Armand’s ass, watching the smirk melt from his face. Another landed right after, and Daniel found it easy to get into this rhythm, heart fast, landing one spanking after another with the metal of that belt. Once, heart pounding and breath quick, he missed his aim, and the buckle curled and struck harshly around Armand’s hip.

Armand screamed hard at this. That had hurt, it truly had. And it had drawn blood, which was yet another cause for concern. He knew it because he felt the trickle of it down his leg, could smell it even from this distance. 

“Lose your clothes, Daniel, and show me what else you have learned in my absence,” Armand ordered in an attempt to distract him while the wound healed.

It was welcome, since it drew Daniel’s immediate attention, but Armand’s sweet voice did the same. He did as he was asked, slipping from his jeans, pretending it was only because he finally needed to and not admitting Armand had any power here. Well. There were ways to get that feeling back.

He grabbed Armand by his forearm and drug him further up the bed, took both wrists in his hands and held them tight to an iron bar on his headboard. Quickly he slipped the belt around them and the bar, punching a new hole through the leather to keep his wrists bound tight above his head. It was a slapdash job that any vampire could break through easily but that wasn’t the point. It was the illusion that mattered.

Armand sighed into the ministrations, thoroughly thrilled as he was manhandled almost to the point of abuse. He tested the restraints. They would work for the moment, if he did not tense too hard. He looked up into Daniel’s eyes wantonly, smiling with reverence at his fledgling. 

“I’d half expected you to send me away tonight,” he mused, spreading his legs and hooking them around Daniel, pulling him abruptly close so that he loomed over him. “I am exceedingly glad you didn’t, beloved.”

Daniel rewarded his sweet words with kisses, nipping only with his human teeth, tracing tongues over one another. It felt perfect to be skin to skin against Armand again, on more equal footing now with the powerful blood in his veins. Armand’s blood. He groaned against his mouth, his hands stroking down Armand’s lithe little body and finally stopping behind his knees. He grabbed bruise-tight, pulling his legs apart and leaned back to survey his prize.

“This is perfect,” he groaned, spreading his thighs a little wider, hearing him gasp. “I’ll plan ahead next time. Get something for your ankles too. I could spend the entire night just touching you, getting to know you again. Maybe teach you something about patience.”

Armand moaned softly at the brutality with which Daniel spread his legs, and further still, as if they could go any further. He laughed then, eyes sparkling with mirth. 

“Not even the great Marius de Romanus could teach me patience in this thing.” He smirked. There was nothing he could do. With his arms fastened for the moment and Daniel’s biting grasp keeping his legs apart, he was completely at his mercy. “I am just so ready at all times to be filled.”

God, he wished Armand could see what ran through his head, how many ideas his mind was racing through, because saying them out loud was so brazen and terrifying...but if Marius was what Armand has to compare him too, he’d have to step it up.

“Marius indulges your urges too much,” he said bravely, grinning as he scratched lightly up one thigh. “I’ll shackle you in iron so you can’t fight me back, and clear my night. No memos or interruptions…just wanna touch you.” And he did, up to the warmth between his legs, ghosting over thick red hair but not to where Armand wanted, fingers spread over his belly to keep his writhing hips still. “It’s been a while but I remember your face when you cum. And right before. How many hours do you think I could make you hold out?”

“Big words, Daniel, from one so young. You should tell him that to his face,” Armand breathed, though his calculated façade showed some discernible cracks. He’d been hard since Daniel had slapped him on the couch, god damn it. He’d been brutally whipped to the point that his back was only just beginning to cool off against the bed sheets. So he did buck up against Daniel’s hand on his stomach. 

“What would you do to me, if you had me clapped in irons then? Keep me in here to yourself, or invite half of the court in, to take turns? Just earlier, you insinuated that I was pretty enough for Marius to do that. And if you dare to make me hold out tonight I will turn the belt to you, and I will not be kind.”

Oh, he knew Armand could be cruel in bed, even if his natural inclination was submission. “Don’t worry baby boy, I’ll be kind tonight,” he promised. He laid a kiss to Armand’s thighs where he held him, then another, opened mouth and warm and wet, and drew a short line down with his tongue. “You have to admit you could put on a pretty show. And as much as you enjoyed yourself in the brothels I can’t say you’re shy. Maybe I would bring your beloved Lestat in? The whole castle would hear about it then, how Armand begs to get off because he can’t wait for good things.”

Daniel was dipping lower, getting to the part of Armand’s thighs, and mouthed gently at the stretched tendon and the soft skin beneath it. He wrapped his arms around his thigh and braced his forearm against the other to keep him spread as he let just the tip of his tongue brush the base of Armand’s neglected cock.

“Lestat would never,” Armand breathed. It was a fact, and Armand couldn’t lament it with Daniel’s sinful mouth upon his body, those dirty kisses, the flick of his tongue upon his member after so long of neglecting it. He arched into it, such a small gesture allowing such relief. “Call me that again. Call me all those things you used to call me. Your colloquialisms that always captured so directly what I could never capture in my old tongue,” he spoke quietly. Baby boy, boss, little slut, all of these things. They were obscene, and he loved it.

“Such a pretty thing,” Daniel praised as he gave several slow, broad licks up Armand’s cock, feeling it twitch beneath his kisses. “God I missed seeing you like this, babe, I missed hearing your voice when I got you all turned on and aching.”

He could feel Armand’s legs straining around him, obviously wanting more, but he held him firm, and looked up right into Armand’s eyes as he brought the tip up to his open lips.

“Missed you too...” Armand whined breathily, his usual decorum and eloquence beginning to unravel as Daniel’s hot breath streamed over his cock. “Can’t believe how good you are, how good this is. I cannot take it Daniel, please.”

“That’s my sweet boy,” he said with delight, finally taking the head into his mouth, lathing the slit with his tongue as he sucked. He traced slow, firm circles with his tongue, fighting to keep his lover still and landing a sharp slap to his inner thigh for it. “Stay still for me,” he whispered, lips just touching the reddened tip again.

It took a lot of self-control for Armand to listen, to do this for his fledgling. This was always the part he struggled with the most. He stared up at the ceiling, face deeply red with arousal and desperation, his lips slightly parted.

“If you take me tonight Daniel, promise me it will be rough and unrelenting,” he breathed, stilling his hips against all odds. Though when Daniel started back up, he was not sure how it would last.

Daniel hummed softly, both to make a promise and to send the feeling straight through Armand, knowing he’d be unable to stay still through it. But it was just an excuse to be rough, to have him pinned down and to feel him struggling against him.

Hm. Like Daniel could resist taking him, when it had been fucking years—! He knew he’d worked Armand up into a fit enough by then, and quickly let him go, letting his cock fall from his mouth and pulling back enough to not be touching him at all.

“Danny, you fiend!” Armand hissed, thoroughly at the end of his tether as Daniel ceased his affections and pulled away. His eyes were wild with anger, with desperation, with lust. He needed this. “I can break from these bonds.”

Daniel laughed outright, easing up the bed at Armand’s side, smiling down at him, and then struck him again, harder than the first time, know that in this excited state he could take it “Little slut, you’ll get nothing else out of me if you can’t speak nicely to me. Do you want me to fuck you or not?”

Armand grunted as Daniel’s hand struck his cheek again, the force of it stinging him. The pain, the degradation, it was all too much. And still he would not submit. Still, he needed to push Daniel’s boundaries. “Fuck me now, you ungrateful little bastard or get out and sleep in the gardens,” he spat.

The little bitch, Daniel knew he was working himself up into a passion as he tended to do in bed, but with this as Daniel’s first time trying to act this way with Armand it incensed him. Fine. He wanted it that way, he could do it.

He dug lube from the top drawer by his bed, refusing to pay attention to any judgmental looks and got back between Armand’s legs.

“Sure, keeping them spread open for someone you don’t think can please you,” he sneered, and before Armand could mouth off again, Daniel had moved, pressing three fingers into him with little preamble, his other fisted tight around Armand’s rigid cock.

A strangled cry escaped Armand’s lips, somewhere close to a sob. It barely hurt, of course, but the intrusion was enough to startle him, to prick his eyes with tears of relief. Short lived relief, as Daniel held fast to his length, ensuring he’d find no release any time soon. 

“Yes, Daniel…” he panted, head thrown back, bearing the length of his throat to his fledgling as he arched his back.

God, the temptation to bite was intense, the veins etched against his throat like lines in marble; but he knew better, and his cock was demanding attention more so than his thirst right now. He slid in and out slowly for only a moment; Armand demanded it tough, fine, he could give it to him that way.

He loosened him quickly, the act more for getting him slick than to stretch, and he adored the way Armand tried to twist on his fingers, get them deeper. He clenched his fist just a little more tightly and let his thumb press in under the sensitive head.

Armand gasped in unbridled pleasure and need, barely himself as the tears rolled down his cheeks. “Please, please, please...” was all he could say, all he had been reduced to, auburn ringlets dampening around his face with the blood sweat. He could have sworn that no other vampire had remained in touch with carnal pleasures as he did.

Daniel couldn’t do with that begging. That’s what he wanted, that’s all he wanted, this pretty little thing wanting him, needing him, begging for him and making him feel wanted again, cherished-

He kissed Armand as he pulled his fingers out, his mouth as needy as the rest of him, and coated himself quick and clumsy, feeling his way back between Armand’s legs. He wanted to stay right there, eyes half open as they kissed and watched his face as he fed his cock into him.

Armand kissed the other deeply, almost sloppily. He knew Daniel was watching him, he didn’t care. He almost liked it. He wanted to bring his arms around his Daniel; alas, they were still bound. He could do nothing but kiss him, pull him in with his legs hooked around his waist again, hoping this was enough to convey the adoration, the need, that he felt.

“Danny, please,” he reiterated, savoring the name on his tongue.

Daniel slid himself in smooth and quick, pressing tight against Armand’s ass and tasting what it drew from his lips. “I know what you need, babe, but you should ask nicely for it don’t you think?” he asked gently. He pulled back, giving a short, shallow thrust to his lover, far too gentle for either of them to enjoy. “Use your manners. I know your Master taught you better.”

Armand sobbed audibly, blinking away the tears as Daniel filled him to the hilt and pulled so far out again so soon, so cruelly. “I’ve been asking nicely...please...make me forget my own name, make it so I can’t walk two feet from this bed when you’re done. Take me, own me, Danny. Please”

“That’s what I want to hear, pretty pet,” he laughed, reaching up to brush Armand’s dampened hair back. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure the whole council knows why you can’t walk right when I’m done.”

And he reached beneath his lover, wrapping his arms around his upper thighs, lifting his round little ass off the bed and thrust into him hard enough to lurch his shoulders up into the pillows against the headboard

Armand gasped loudly, almost past words as Daniel pounded into him, laid claim to him, held him with some inexplicable superior strength as he did it. “Yes, Daniel...” he choked out, “Deeper, please...”

Daniel felt something clench in his stomach as Armand begged him like that, and he groaned at it, wanted it, reveled in it, and it spurred him on, pressing Armand’s body further over onto itself as he pounded into him, his thighs winding right around Daniel’s waist.

“You’re tighter than I remember,” he groaned, feeling the smaller body beneath him clench around him, trying to keep him in even as Armand begged to be fucked.

“Let my wrists loose, Danny. I need to hold you,” Armand implored, begged, stuttered over his words as each thrust filled him with indescribable pleasure. “You’re bigger than I remember, my love.”

Daniel didn’t want to give him everything he asked for but also he wanted those delicate hands on him, and couldn’t deny either of them this pleasure. Keeping himself deep inside and feeling every movement of Armand’s body, he undid the buckle, bringing his wrists down and one to his mouth to kiss. Still he wanted to bite, but he resisted. That soft, desperate look in Armand’s eyes was enough to keep him in line

Using his superior strength and speed, Armand swiftly turned the tables and threw Daniel to the mattress. If they’d parted at all, it was not for long. He lowered himself fully onto Daniel’s cock in a breath, straddling his fledgling’s hips and immediately driving himself down, grinding to the very base with every thrust. He moaned incessantly, it was so much deeper now, faster. He kissed Daniel hungrily, hand upon his throat in a possessive way.

“You horrid little devil!” he yelled, taking a leaf from Marius’s book, but it didn’t seem that Armand cared at all. And it was difficult for Daniel to be angry considering the way Armand was riding his dick. He reached to grab on to his hips, helping him get the leverage he needed. And he tried once to roll them back over, he did, but Armand seemed determined. 

“Is this what you want, Danny?” he whispered lustfully, voice laden with a desire to please.

He nodded, gripping Armand tight still, not wanting to let go of control entirely. Struck by the beautiful flush to Armand’s face, the damp curls sticking to his cheeks and those words coming past his lips, Daniel wrenched both hands behind Armand’s back, arching him forward. One hand holding his wrists, the other on his hip, Daniel met each thrust that Armand gave him, his own breath quickly growing erratic.

“Finish for me, Daniel,” Armand breathed, his voice barely a whisper. His own temperature rose at the power of Daniel’s thrusts, the sting upon his wrists, the bruising grip upon his hips. He locked eyes with his fledgling shamelessly, grinding himself as far down as he could. He deliberately clenched himself around Daniel to increase his lover’s pleasure. “Finish for me...”

Daniel hated and loved at the same time how Armand could still undo him like this, like when he was a young and stupid mortal crying for another taste of his dead lovers blood.

He lost the ability to make coherent words by then and was lost in the physical, in the sensations rolling through his middle. He knew he was close, painfully so, and he gave a sharp, breathy cry when he came, and was vaguely aware of the sweet whispers Armand gave him.

Armand gasped softly at this, the sensation of Daniel releasing within him. A few more thrusts and he himself was at his peak, his lover’s pleasure contributing to the matter tenfold. He took himself in hand and finished the job, tensing as he found his own release. He stayed for a moment in his place, combing the hair from Daniel’s eyes, caressing his cheek gently. 

“Well done, my darling Danny.” He smiled softly, a bare quirk of the lip. His eyes were bright with reverence and appreciation.

Daniel was still high from sex, enjoying the feeling of Armand’s skin beneath his hands, but he managed a wry grin. “I thought you wanted me to use you,” he said, trying to sound accusatory but it was difficult considering how he was panting. “Some little bed slave you are. You treat Marius like that when you make love?” Though it was all softened with gentle touches and half kisses

“Shut up, darling.” Armand spoke fondly, lowering himself finally beside Daniel. He nestled beside him, hand drawing feather-light patterns upon his skin. “It was perfect, every last bit of it.” He smiled against his skin, dragging his lips across it in a trail of half formed kisses. “How was it for you, to have your way so thoroughly with your own maker?”

Daniel took Armand’s chin in his hand, gentle this time, and tipped his face up to take his lips, soft and slow this time, savoring every gentle movement. “Love you, babe,” was all he could think to say, smoothing his touch over Armand’s cheek, adoring the smile playing over his face. “All of you. Even your other eight kinds of crazy.”

Armand melted into the kiss helplessly, though Daniel’s choice of words struck a chord within him. He frowned very softly and pulled back, looking into Daniel’s eyes. “Do you regret being crazy, twisted, bitter little Armand’s only fledgling?” he asked gently, guarding himself against the potential response.

Daniel’s hand stroked his cheek, gently curving back to push his hair aside. His chest ached hearing the pang of trepidation in his voice. “Babe, are you kidding? Having you as my maker is the only thing that keeps me able to even talk to half these people, let alone stick my head into any room with members of court,” he told Armand, trying to make his words sound as sincere as he felt. “Your name is almost as famous as Lestat’s, you’ve seen how people look at you when they realize who you are. And I get to be your only one.”

Armand searched Daniel’s eyes for any hint of deception. There was none. He nodded weakly, the term of endearment causing his heart to swell a little. It was so delightfully modern, simple, but said with such love. “I love them, you know. Sybelle and Benji. But they don’t hold a candle to you. I chose you, you’re my only fledgling. There won’t ever be another.”

Daniel still didn’t understand why it was that Master and fledgling were cut off from one another when everyone else could hear one another, even in the same bloodline. It would be fucking convenient right now, to let Armand know what it felt like to walk in to a room on Armand’s arm, to see the look in a newcomers eyes as they were introduced to Armand la Russe, the little devil of the Renaissance, to hear how even those who called him crazy knew better than to piss him off. And he was protected by that, loved by that, _made_ by that. 

“I…I have to admit, boss. I was kinda jealous whenever Marius would give me updates on you, and he’d tell me about them. I know. By blood, they’re his but...I dunno. I guess I thought I was being replaced. Mom’s new babies,” he finished with a chuckle, preparing to get slapped.

Armand nodded with a grave understanding, allowing Daniel’s inappropriate choice of words to slide given the circumstances. “I understand,” he began, linking his hand with Daniel’s. “It’s the same envy I felt when I read Marius’ memoir for the first time, truly understood how much he loved Pandora. It hurt. And even now, he claims to love me and sometimes I cannot believe him.” He shook his head, caressing the back of Daniel’s thumb with his hand. 

“I meant nothing by it. Nothing could replace you, Danny. They are almost my children, but you are so much more than that.” He spoke openly. This was precisely why Daniel could not be replaced by them. With Daniel, as with Marius, he was not the powerful and brooding Armand la Russe, old coven leader, with the weight of the world on his shoulders. He was Armand, Amadeo, Caro Mío, Babe. The two people he could truly open up to. The only two left.

Daniel peppered Armand’s face with kisses, quick, fleeting ones over skin as warm as it ever was without a fresh kill. “I love you, babe. And I know you love me...no one in our line is particularly good at opening up, but I think we’re getting better? ...they’re good for you, those two, I can tell. The court is good for you. Having Marius around again...I just hope being back I can be good for you too.”

Armand laughed ever so slightly at this. That was the truth of it. Nobody of this bloodline...what would they call it...this...House of Romanus, had ever specialized in opening up. The paterfamilias of the thing in particular. “And I hope that I can be better for you than I was, Daniel.”

Daniel smiled, stretching out, inviting Armand close. He knew the little brat loved to cuddle even if he acted like he hated it. “You are, boss, ok? You say it in your own way....can’t say I’ve ever had a lot of people who would be as worried over me as you were, when I drew your blood.”

Armand smiled weakly at this, accepting the invitation. “Any other time, Danny, and I would have let you lick the blood clean off of my face. Just not now,” he said carefully. “Get your laptop. We weren’t even through the opening credits.”

Daniel was honestly in love with that little gremlin’s demanding attitude, even if he was secretly going to be getting on some NSFW websites in the future to figure out how to get him on his knees again. But movie nights are nice. Movie nights were a good way to pretend that they hadn’t been separated for almost thirty years and that there wasn’t a god damned pandemic about to spread.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Marius next chapter! Also some Throne, Lestat, Armand, Gregory, and Fareed as the virus begins to seize its victims.


	4. Symptoms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trouble brews in the chateau with the virus Fareed unleased upon vampire-kind.

Marius was sitting in the garden, taking in the simple beauty of it. Nature was a constant over the years. In his eyes, these roses appeared the same in this moment as they did in his gardens centuries ago.

Thorne was marvelously surprised to happen upon Marius out in the warm night air. It was rare that they got a chance to talk, especially with their duties to Lestat. “Well met, old friend.” He smiled warmly, though he wouldn’t sit without invitation. It was not in his nature.

Marius looked up, offering him a fond smile. “And to you,” he said warmly before gesturing to the space beside him. “Please sit.”

Thorne took the seat almost a little eagerly. There was something about his time with Marius that was so delightfully simple. He had first happened upon him in a raw and vulnerable state, and Marius had given him so much always. Thorne was never one to pretend to be something he was not for anyone, but the effortlessness of Marius’s company was addictive to him. “How does court life treat you?” he asked. “I imagine it is your greatest dream, given your penchant for law?”

“Like a schoolmaster,” Marius said. “Letstat has a way of finding trouble.” There was no malice in his voice, only fondness.

Thorne laughed gently, fondly at this. “Aye, he does. I can vouch for that.” He grinned. He’d been a bodyguard for Lestat long enough now to know it.

“But thankfully, I have again found time to paint. These flowers have been my latest muse.”

“But I am glad to hear of that. What I’ve seen of yours... You create pure magic.”

“If you were one of my pupils, I would scold you for such flattery,” Marius said with a soft smile. “But you are not, so instead I will extend my humble gratitude.”

“If my hands were not so brutish, and I thought I could create how you do, I might ask to be your pupil.” Thorne sighed gently, though there was no real resentment in his tone. Leave the art to the artists, after all.

“What brings you out here?” Marius inquired, his tone lacking any accusations.

“A moment away from body guarding, is all. I don’t know what to do with myself most of the time when I am free. I hate it. But sometimes, it is nice.”

“I do not envy your work,” he said. The note of concern was audible. “But you do it well.” He was quick to add this. “In all my years, I did not think I’d be a part of the birth of a civilization.”

“Ah, but you revel in it. After all, was not your very Rome the forebear of some modern civilizations?” Thorne asked with a smile. He knew Marius by now potentially more than Marius would like to admit.

“I do,” he admitted. “It is a gift to forge a just society.” He kept his gaze locked upon the flowers. “How do you feel on the subject?”

“I think it doesn’t need to hold such gravity as you place upon it.” Thorne shook his head and smiled. “Here we are, and we are as we are. What we might become need not have any bearing on our thoughts now.” He spoke thoughtfully. When he was a man, life was too short and rough to concern oneself with the future too much. He carried that mindset into immortality with him. His fingers played with a flower with great gentleness. “But then, I was never a great thinker as you are.”

“We are our own future,” Marius argued politely. “Gone are the days where the rules of mortals can apply. At least not fully. But our own governance can pave way for those that follow after us.” Another pause. “Again with the flattery,” he mused.

“Ah, if only you knew yourself as we do, Marius. Then the flattery might never stop, and your head may grow as big as our Prince’s.” Thorne chuckled lowly at his own joke. “We are what we are, as I said. It is your job to think otherwise.”

Marius did not reply this time. He seemed distracted. “There is something wrong,” he said, promptly changing the subject.

Thorne frowned deeply at this. In his short decades of knowing Marius, he had learned that Marius only said such things when he truly meant them. “What is it, my friend? What could be so dire?”

“I do not know. But I cannot shake this feeling.”

“What do you mean, Marius?” he asked again. He placed a hand on the elder’s shoulder then, not considering he might not like to be touched. Marius wouldn’t look at him, and he needed him to. To see his eyes, it would help him gauge the severity of this thing. “Will you please look at me?”

But Marius could not.

————————————

Fareed was back in his laboratory, back to his research. On a screen, he had the 3D model of the virus while in a cage, he had a rat that he planned to inject. On his lab bench was a vial of blood marked with a number. He drew up two ccs, his hands shaking immensely as he did so.

Gregory had just finished a conference call with all the CEOs for his company. He’d subtly alerted them to review all world pandemic policies and make sure all ducks were in order. Now he wanted to check up on Fareed. He entered the lab and was not happy to see a rat and a full vial of blood on the lab table.

Fareed looked up from his work upon feeling Gregory’s presence. “Good evening,” he greeted. “Is there something I can help you with?” He sounded wary but not unfriendly.

Gregory took in Fareed’s fatigued expression and the nervous energy he was putting off. He moved swiftly across the room and embraced the doctor, kissing his soft hair. “Are you alright? What is it you are doing here with this rat? Do you need help?”

This was the opposite of what Fareed was expecting. He tensed in response to the touch but didn’t push the elder away. “My current state doesn’t matter. There is much work to be done if I am to fix this.” His sharp tone was directed at himself. “I could always use more hands, but you are not obligated.”

Gregory decided just to sit on one of the stools at the lab table and watch. “Okay, okay, young one. I’m not good with all this science stuff. I run companies and hire others to do it. But I will stay here and watch if you don’t mind.” He frowned again at the rat, and resisted an urge to chastise Fareed for risking another infected animal escape.

Fareed stood up and started busying himself with his work again. “The rat is going to be locked in a glass container while inoculated. I am hoping to use it as a host to create a vaccine…or at least understand what we’re dealing with.” He rambled a bit, still worried about being smited from the earth.

Gregory reached a hand out across the table toward Fareed and placed it palm-down. A gesture to be calm. “Fareed, just relax and don’t rush. Slow and steady gets the worm.”

Fareed furrowed his brow. “Oh...a malaphor,” he said with a chuckle. It was enough to calm the doctor in the moment. And he didn’t realize how much he needed that. “This mess is my fault. Now I have to fix it.”

——————————

When Lestat tested the door to Armand’s apartment and found it unlocked, he went right in without bothering to ask permission. He knew Armand was in there and would sense his arrival, so why bother with the pretense? He’d need his assistance for his next internet radio broadcast anyway.

Armand sighed softly at the intrusion. He’d heard him a mile away of course, and so he’d expected it, but something in him bristled at Lestat’s brazen actions. “Would it kill you to knock?” He looked up at Lestat from his chair, voice carrying a little more malice than he’d intended it to. He’d even shocked himself with it a little bit.

Lestat’s eyebrows lifted at Armand’s tone, wondering what had put him in such a mood. He crossed the carpet to him and then knocked mockingly on the table beside him. “I need to—” He waved a hand vaguely in the direction of where they’d left Benji’s equipment set up. “If you’d be so kind,” he added sarcastically.

Armand rose from his chair abruptly. He felt inexplicably inconvenienced by this, especially since Lestat did not even deign to officially request his assistance. But wordlessly, he led him to the equipment, setting it up accordingly. When would Benji get back anyway? Why was this suddenly his burden to bear?

“It’s just one button.” Armand grunted. “And you know the password at this point.”

Lestat knew how upset Armand had been at his children leaving court, something Lestat could certainly empathize with… but still Armand had sworn fealty to him, sworn his love, and his attitude now spoke of some further grievance which was unexpected. Pausing before taking his place at the computer, Lestat gently but firmly caught Armand’s arm to make him look at him. “What is it, hm?” he asked evenly. “You have something to say to me?”

“Nothing,” Armand said flippantly, not deigning to glance down at Lestat’s hand upon his arm. “Only get on with your broadcast and leave me in peace. I’ve felt nothing but frustration for a few nights now, it’s naught to do with you.”

Lestat’s expression faded into something sympathetic and he gave Armand’s arm a gentle squeeze before releasing it. This situation was a difficult time for all of them, and he accepted Armand’s explanation. “Will you announce me?” he asked. “Properly this time?”

Armand inhaled softly, as if trying to curb some biting response that he truly, truly wanted to unleash. This mood, this persistent anger, it was nothing to do with Lestat. He’d just admitted that. Reluctantly, he pressed the button. “Attention, children of darkness. This is Armand la Russe again. The revered Prince Lestat de Lioncourt is here to make another announcement.” Even if he tried at this moment, he could not infuse his voice with enthusiasm. It sounded dead and empty, almost an echo. Well, he’d said his piece. He nigh-on collapsed back into his chair, as if emotionally exhausted from the act.

Lestat shot him a perturbed look, but didn’t dare chastise him on the air. Taking his place, he took a folded paper out of his pocket with the notes Fareed had provided. He then gave his update to the airwaves about their continued plans in mitigating the virus’s effects, repeated all his earlier warnings and cautions, and then moved on to the more detailed list of symptoms that he’d just received. Irritability, fatigue, and all the rest.

As he was reading them off, though, it occurred to him that many very similarly matched Armand’s current behavior, and very slowly his eyes lifted from the list to stare across the table at him even as he continued speaking in a voice that betrayed nothing of his dismayed thoughts at what he was realizing. He concluded the announcement as quickly as he could and shut everything down and then simply stared at Armand with something like fear, the list still aloft in his hand.

“What?” Armand snapped coldly, sensing Lestat’s eyes upon him. “Am I so contemptible to you to look at, even after I’ve leant you Benji’s equipment again?” Honestly, he hadn’t been listening to the broadcast. He’d barely been able to focus upon anything.

“When?” Lestat said on the edge of his breath. “How long?” As it always did, his fear quickly turned into anger. The paper crunched in his hand and then a second later burst into flames. Startled, he dropped it quickly, and the ashes fluttered onto the table.

“What on earth are you talking about, you fool?” Armand shot. He turned his gaze to Lestat finally. He honestly couldn’t fathom it, didn’t have the mind to. Just wanted his solitude. “You’ve done your thing. Go.”

“Armand.” Lestat slammed his hand on the table and pushed out of his chair, making it scrape noisily behind him. Leaning over the table, he peered at him. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe Armand was just in a foul temper. Lestat didn’t want to believe it could be true... But no, there were the other signs as well. It had all been there on that damnable list.

If Armand hadn’t known Lestat all these years, he might have trembled at the sudden act. As it stood, he barely had the wherewithal to roll his eyes. “Lestat,” he reiterated in some mockery, returning the favor. “I haven’t the mind for this. Use your words, not your fists.”

Lestat laughed, though it was a sharp bitter sound. His initial thought was that Armand had been hiding his illness, but it seemed now he was rather clueless of it. Coming abruptly around the table, he crouched by Armand’s chair to look at him even more closely, putting a hand solidly to the side of his face to feel his temperature. “Tell me you haven’t gone out to feed since all this began,” he said, still sounding more angry than anything else.

He did not deny Lestat’s touch. “I fed in Paris the night before Fareed briefed us, and I haven’t since,” he said blatantly. He didn’t see the issue. He’d felt nothing, only this damnable frustration. And only that was a result of Benji and Sybelle’s continued absence. “This is ludicrous. I am fine. I look fine, and I feel it. Turn your attentions to those more vulnerable.”

“You’re not fine,” he said, his voice infinitely quieter, as if afraid he’d be overheard through the walls. It was there, all over him, all the signs, and with his mind, Lestat tried to impart to Armand what he saw especially in light of the new list he’d just read. “No one else knows?” he asked in barely a whisper.

Armand rose from his seat away from Lestat. A scalding frustration overtook him, almost as if he could see red. He was not himself in this moment. “There is nothing to know!” he spat, grounding himself against the chair as he tried to come back to himself. “I promised Marius I’d tell him if there was. I’ve not told him. Ergo, there is nothing wrong.” Really, this logic was twisted. But what choice did he have but to hang onto it? And really, what symptoms had he experienced but anger? Though that last spell was jarring.

Lestat stood, but made no move to approach Armand again, just stared at him. His anger at this situation for happening warred with his sympathy for Armand’s condition. “I’ll tell him,” he said in an attempt to calm Armand down, though unsure what could possibly work for one in such an irrational state.

Armand’s rage boiled anew at this. “Don’t you dare!” he hissed savagely, throwing himself in front of the door, eyes flashing. It was not Lestat’s business to tell Marius.

It was so damned hard to think now, had been for days. If he’d betrayed Marius’s promise, he’d need to be the one to tell him. But he had not. He was well, save for a few spells of incandescent rage. And if he had the virus, he did not want to be left alone. But this torment, his mind pulled in a hundred directions over a hundred different things, it was enough to make him falter. He was not just angry, but tired. Tired from not having fed in days, but tired from something else too.

It was enough to sting his eyes with blood tears. The raw frustration, confusion, it was too much. But he did not have the virus. “It’s just so damned hard to think!” he cried in desperation.

Lestat was too shocked to react for a moment. Was this really what it looked like when the virus seized them? This was terrifying. And that just made him all the more angry. He crossed the room and caught Armand by the wrists. “I’ll take you to Fareed,” he said urgently. “He’ll help you.”

“I won’t go, don’t leave,” he spoke swiftly, torn between two minds once again. This was Lestat’s doing, he’d planted this seed in his head, and now he could feel himself unraveling by the second. He sat on the floor, slumped to it, not caring for Lestat’s grip on his wrists, as though standing anymore exhausted him. “I am so angry all the time.”

Lestat tried to keep him from falling, but he was too close to the ground. Releasing his wrists, he crouched in front of him again and took Armand’s face firmly between his hands as if straightening him out would solve something. “I won’t leave,” he said in a hushed voice, hating how scared this made him. He thought then of simply calling with his mind to Fareed or anyone else to take the next steps in solving this, but he was seized with the idea that they might say Armand needed to be sent away, or something worse, and Lestat wasn’t prepared for that yet.

“Tell me it’s alright, that I’m alright,” Armand said frantically, miserably. He needed it. He felt needy, vulnerable. He felt everything crumbling around him as he looked into Lestat’s eyes. He must have looked it too, a scared little boy. He didn’t care. “I was alright before you said anything, I need you to speak again, undo this spell.”

Kneeling, Lestat pulled Armand against him, holding him close, wanting to do anything to make that look in his eyes disappear. “It will be,” he said, sounding absolutely sure. “We’ll make it all right. This will all pass.”

Armand nodded, more in appreciation of the effort than any real belief or understanding. He let Lestat’s voice wash over him, soothe him, as warm water on sore muscles. He held him back, burying his face in the crook of his neck as he composed himself. “If it has come to be that I have this thing…Marius needs to be the next to know.” He spoke despite himself. Gods, did he want to break that promise now.

Lestat put a hand to the back of Armand’s head, pressing his hair in desperate comfort for both their sakes. “Let me take you to Fareed,” he entreated. “Let him first determine what there is to tell before we tell it.”

Armand shook his head. He could be a pile of ashes and still disagree with Lestat over something. He truly did not want to be difficult. But the look in Marius’s eyes, his tone, when he’d asked him to make that promise, they haunted him. “He needs to know first,” he murmured. He made no effort to pull away, the coolness of Lestat’s skin against his face a welcome comfort.

Lestat sighed, his arms tightening around Armand slightly. But he was sure Marius would tell Armand the same thing anyway, so it would likely only be a short delay before Armand got to the doctor. “Do you know where he is?”

Armand shook his head again. “I’ve not seen him since the night of the meeting. I’ve been here,” he murmured.

Lestat reached out with his mind to Thorne who was always lurking nearby. _Get Marius._ It seemed Armand felt colder in his arms already, but Lestat tried not to let the fear that gave him show through. _And be discreet about it, damn it._

“I don’t want Thorne to know!” Armand snapped suddenly, feeling another bout of rage. It was too late, the message had been sent. And honestly, what did it matter? He remained silent then, tightening his arms around Lestat in an attempt to ride through his fury rather than act upon it in anyway.

“He doesn’t,” Lestat tried to reassure him, though he didn’t have much faith it would work. The way Armand was clinging to him scared him much more than any of his angry outbursts. “I’ll send him away if he comes back with Marius. Here...” Scooping Armand up off the floor, Lestat took him over to the sofa to sit there with him instead, but didn’t try to make him let go, keeping his hands comfortingly on his back and head as they waited.

——————

Thorne had immediately leapt to Lestat’s service, not only because it was his duty, but also because of the sheer solemnness of his tone. Something terrible had occurred. It put him in mind of his talk with Marius last night. How right the Roman had been then, how perceptive he always was. And now, it seemed that lately there was hardly a time that anything went right.

Of course, he could narrow Marius’s presence down to a certain area of the chateau, but he had not been answering his mind calls. And Thorne had been trying. So it was after some trial and error that he happened upon his friend in the library, milling over a copy of “Ana Karenina.” He seemed relatively lost in thought, although he was not unaware of the overall uneasiness around the chateau.

They might exchange pleasantries later, but for now Lestat had given Thorne a task to do. And in honor of Lestat’s request for discretion, Thorne walked up to Marius at a casual pace with a cheerful smile so as not to draw suspicion. “The Prince has asked for you, my friend. It seems of extreme importance.” He spoke very, very quietly, the fake smile seeming so unnatural that he might have looked a little insane to Marius.

Marius smiled back politely, though something in his gut told him that there was more bad news. Lestat hardly ever requested his presence. “Of course,” he said as he stood up. “Do you have any details?”

Thorne shook his head regretfully, careful to keep his countenance as light as possible. “I can only say that he asked it of me through the mind gift, and with great urgency, and it seems like something sudden has happened. He is with your fledgling, I believe. In his chambers.”

Marius nodded. He understood, although he was not thrilled to have nothing to go on. The mention of Armand only worried him further. “Alright…lead the way then,” he said as he placed the book down and headed to the door.

Thorne nodded solemnly. They walked in silence, Thorne making an effort to seem in a casual mood still. Whenever he glanced to Marius, it seemed the Roman was taking the same measures. He was grateful for his perceptiveness again. When he reached Armand’s door, he almost inaudibly tapped against it to alert Lestat.

Inside, Armand sighed deeply and closed his eyes as he sensed his maker near. It would have been a source of comfort, were he not so guilt-ridden that he’d broken his oath. With no small amount of willpower, he pulled himself away from Lestat, placing himself in another chair in anticipation. He suddenly felt cold all over, colder even than a vampire his age would. He chalked it up to worry.

Once Armand left him, Lestat rose to answer the door. He glanced to Thorne, letting him know to wait, then turned to Marius, speaking with soft ambiguity. “Armand is waiting for you.”

Although Marius tried to hide his worry, his expression betrayed him. “So I’ve heard,” he said solemnly. He had about a thousand questions, but he held back. Mostly because he knew the answer.

Lestat moved into the hall, leaving the door open for Marius to go in. He shot Thorne an appreciative look as they went away together, though his entire countenance was troubled.

Marius approached Armand and wordlessly scooped him in his arms. “What is troubling you?” he inquired despite having a good idea already.

Armand said nothing for the moment, merely clung to his maker for dear life. He searched for the right words, all the while battling this damnable inability to think clearly. “It appears…that one or two of the symptoms of this thing have manifested within me.” He spoke clearly, his voice a damn sight away from his body and its tension, from the fear in his eyes. The guilt he felt was overwhelming. “I’d not noticed until Lestat raised it to my attention. Or else I would have notified you.” It was as if speaking in this way, so detached from it all, would make the whole reality less fearsome.

Marius ran his hand through Armand’s hair. He could feel the tension in him. “Shh,” he soothed. “It’s not your fault. We will have it looked at. You will be alright.” Now he wasn’t sure about this statement, but he hid it well.

“It is my fault!” Armand snapped ferociously, glowering up at Marius. He dug his hands into his maker’s clothes, almost clawing at them in his anger. “I should have known!” His fury gave way to fear, to guilt, then his anger rose again as a result and tenfold. “And what will looking at it do?! The fool that started this all hasn’t a clue how to fix it.”

“That’s enough,” Marius said firmly, his tone showed that he meant business. He could empathize with his fledgling. “Then who can fix it?” he inquired, in hopes that he could coax Armand to see reason.

“Ask the imbecile who orchestrated it all.” He spoke bitingly, struggling out of his maker’s grip. He knew it was harsh, that Fareed was doing his absolute damndest to fix this whole disaster. But he could not help himself. His vision began to haze slightly, as it had with Lestat, a twinge of red out of the very corners of his eyes.

“So now that we are on the same page. Shall we go?” Marius asked.

Armand paced almost erratically, mind fixated on Fareed and how he might bring some sort of absolution upon the doctor for this whole thing. “I could just march right into his office now and kill him for this. Hang what Lestat said,” he said darkly.

Marius shook his head. “I cannot protect you against Seth,” he said, going along with the game for the time being, for he did not want to push Armand away. Though he would not let anything happen.

Armand looked up at Marius, stopping in his tracks for a moment, but looked through him, as though we wasn’t truly there at all. He shook his head. “What does that matter? Who knows if this thing might kill me regardless. At least then I’ll go out doing right by the court.” As he looked at Marius, a powerful surge of thirst coursing through him.

Marius remained patient with his fledgling and at the same time masked his worry. “How can I help you?” he pleaded.

Armand stepped back to him. His mouth began to feel very dry, dehydrated, as though some force had sucked the moisture from it. The sensation traveled to his throat. It itched, ached, burned. His whole body burned. He closed his eyes, grasping onto the nearest thing as he hunched over with this pain.

He looked to Marius again, though not to his eyes. To his throat, such a strong thing, almost translucent over the jugular beneath that held such a delectable fount of blood, something in his mortal years he’d cry for, die for. Well he needed it now, all of it. From anyone. From those lovely little mortals in the dungeon. He could so easily pluck a few of them as a wolf amongst lambs and make a quick meal of their very hearts.

As he stared at Marius’s pulsing jugular, he wondered if that crime might even slake his blood lust, if all the souls in this chateau and the little village in the valley below would manage it even. He clenched his fists, breath heavy, so ready to strike at any second. But his Marius had not fed for two months. It was not an option. With this thought in the very recesses of his mind, Armand held off long enough for this dangerous thirst to wear off almost as soon as it had come upon him. He knew it would return.

“You cannot help me.” He spoke angrily, slumping into the nearest chair, tense and afraid from what he’d just experienced. “I don’t know that anything can. And that is what I’m afraid of. Death, the thought of it, it cripples me. I don’t know that I ever told you that.”

But Marius knew. He knew all too well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Louis and David are back in the next chapter. And of course, more Lestat!


	5. Thirsting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The virus claims another victim.

David decided he would try out his luck in the library again while everyone else seemed to be running around the castle trying to get ahead of this virus thing Fareed had unleashed. David felt that when it came to things like this, one could do little more than let the science take the helm and allow it all to play out. He’d lived through a world war and a few pandemics in his own life already.

He chose a table near the back of the library. He even found the sign Lestat mentioned, sitting on a mantel above the giant fireplace. Not the best spot for it to be seen. He placed it on the main table at the front of the library. It read, “Silence, please. Vampires are reading.” David took out his books and spread out on the table he’d chosen, prepared for a nice long study session.

In the chaos of trying to mitigate panic and maintain control of public reaction to the virus situation, Lestat had been drawn in a hundred different directions over the last few nights and hadn’t had the chance to check in with David at all. Finally in a rare quiet moment, late one evening, he found the time to seek him out. The library was very near the top of his list of places to look, so he found him easily. “You don’t mind if I interrupt, do you?” he said as he reached David’s table. He could tell he was busy, but he hoped that didn’t matter.

David looked up as a familiar shadow fell across his books. For anyone else, he would have been immediately bothered by the intrusion. But it was Lestat, his beloved maker. He stood, and smiled, gesturing for him to sit. “Please. I welcome interruptions from only a few, and you are one of them.”

Lestat smiled in return, though it didn’t manage to reach his eyes, which carried all the stress of the week. He pulled out one of the chairs, but turned it around before sitting on it, straddling it and folding his arms on the back, resting his chin on his arms. “How is it with Jesse?” he asked as he let his eyes rove over David admiringly.

“Jesse is doing fine. She is strong enough that I don’t need to worry. She doesn’t plan to come back to the chateau. She is staying away from humans as well.” David leaned in and stole a kiss from Lestat, because he was looking tired and worn out and in need of it. He brushed a lock of blond hair from Lestat’s forehead. “How are you holding up? Is Louis well? I haven’t seen him in days.”

The kiss made Lestat smile in earnest, and he lifted a hand to brush the back of his fingers against David’s silken cheek. He skipped the first question because he had no good answer for it and went on to the second. “He’s well,” he said, because Lestat refused to conceive of any other possibility. Even if Louis had been acting oddly in the rare moments Lestat got the chance to see him, Lestat continued to chalk it up to the tension between them that had been simmering since Louis returned from his months away from court. Just thinking about that made his brows pinch. “He’s been feeding from the mortals we keep below. But he resents the confinement…”

David thought about that for a moment. “How odd. He’s usually all about self-sacrifice and isolation.” Everyone was a little off their game right now, though.

“Right?” But Louis had been so touchy, Lestat hadn’t dared to push him further.

“You look very fashionable tonight.” David ran his fingers down the lapel of Lestat’s coat. “Do you need my help with anything?”

The compliment was effectively distracting, and he caught David’s fingers from his coat, drawing them up to his lips. “Not at all,” he said, his lips brushing them as he spoke. He’d simply wanted to see David, and didn’t need an excuse.

Lestat squeezed his fingers before letting them go. “And yourself? Have you been abstaining?” He wasn’t sure how long David could go without blood, and it worried him to think he might push past his limit in a gentlemanly effort to leave more for others from the court’s stores.

The brush of Lestat’s lips along his knuckles before releasing his hand had caused a small frisson of desire in David. He briefly considered dragging Lestat behind one of the bookshelves, but quashed down the animal instinct. “I’m abstaining. I can go for a few days, you know. But really, we need to have some other options here. That dungeon supply will only last so long.” He eyed Lestat’s jugular and considered the bookshelves again.

The look in David’s eyes was beginning to make Lestat forget quite a lot of what had been troubling him, but he tried to keep his concentration on their conversation. A few days wasn’t long at all. The dungeon would be empty before they knew it even if most only took the little drink now and then. “And when did you properly feed last? Before Fareed told us everything, I know, but long enough before that you would not have been in danger?”

David let his gaze travel slowly from Lestat’s throat up to his clear grey-blue eyes. “I last killed the night before that meeting with Fareed.” He held Lestat’s eyes, leaning in toward him again. “So yes, I’m rather famished about now. What shall we do about it?” This was playing mean, but when he got this hungry, David found himself doing things that went beyond his normally proper and polite self.

Lestat’s eyes widened just a fraction at David’s forwardness, so at odds with his usual reservation. But it was a delighted surprise that Lestat welcomed after so many days of tension and anxiety. Why hadn’t he come to find David sooner?

He smirked, so amused, and reached across the table to put a hand against the side of David’s jaw. “Hmmm yes, you are feeling rather frigid, aren’t you? You must be thirsting dreadfully. Well,” he paused to brush his thumb over David’s lips, then teased, “You know where the dungeons are.”

David narrowed his eyes at Lestat. “I don’t want dungeon food.” He lunged for Lestat, holding him in an iron grip and burying his fangs in that strong throat.

Lestat barely had time to laugh at David’s reaction before he was on him and the sound disappeared into a gasp. The force of his attack knocked Lestat backwards out of his chair, and he had the dim realization that they ended up on the floor. But he was quickly overwhelmed by the swoon as he felt himself pour into his beloved.

David drew in the droughts of blood, savoring the familiar taste and heat of his maker. One hand held Lestat’s head, fisting in his hair, and the other clenched the fabric of his coat. He moaned softly against Lestat, swallowing the fountain of blood as it gushed into him.

Lestat clung to every flicker of the telepathic connection this act allowed them when they were usually closed off to each other. His own thoughts that David drew out of him were all a tangled web of his frustrations with his role as prince and the wedge the burden of it all was driving between him and Louis. Weakly, his hands clutched at David’s clothes, but he didn’t try to push him off. He couldn’t have done it now even if he wanted to.

The hunger subsiding into something more manageable, David forced himself to slow and pace himself as he continued to draw on Lestat. He felt Lestat’s heartbeat slow with his own, and he began to see and feel everything Lestat couldn’t keep hidden from the blood. The weight of the crown, so to speak.

He sent his own love and strength to Lestat as he felt himself swoon and lose focus. He withdrew his fangs, licking at the wound on Lestat’s throat, even as it healed. “My love, my maker, my prince,” he whispered against Lesat’s ear. It was then that he realized they were on the floor.

Lestat was too dizzy to move at all for a moment, but then he managed to lift a hand into the back of David’s hair. Those words sent a shiver through him, making his spine arch, and he pressed David’s head so their mouths could meet. Lestat kissed him deliriously before his head fell back against the floor and he gasped. “David...” he began breathlessly, though with a reproachful tone. “Didn’t...didn’t you read the sign...?”

David lay dazed on the floor, feeling Lestat’s hand in his hair, and the warmth of the blood that now filled and soothed him. But Lestat’s jest gave him a twinge of shame for what he’d just done. “Don’t you dare mention this to Armand or Daniel,” he admonished. He moved to stand up.

Lestat’s head reeled as he pushed up on his elbows, reaching to catch David before he could fully rise. He didn’t pull him back down, but didn’t let David go any further either. “They’ll never know a thing...” He smiled as his eyes finally began to come back into focus and he could see David’s flushed handsome face again clearly with not a drop of blood on it. “Until I write it into my next book.”

David leaned into Lestat’s space again, a firm look of reproach and threat on his features and in his voice. “Do _not_ put this in a book. Do you hear me?” He bit Lestat’s lower lip hard, drawing blood and aggressively sucking at it before pulling away and standing up. Lestat laughed, making absolutely no promises.

David straightened his suit and the tie at his throat, making everything tidy again. He put a hand out to help Lestat back up. He took it and rose to his feet, but as soon as he was on them, he caught David by his sides and pushed him against the table, making him bend backwards right on top of all his books and papers. Shoving his face against David’s throat, Lestat’s mouth opened and his teeth grazed his skin, but he shuddered with restraint.

David was not too surprised at this sudden move from Lestat, as they always had this _who is more dominant_ issue between them. He froze beneath him, feeling those razor-like fangs against his throat, threatening to remove all he’d just taken. His heartbeat quickened, but Lestat did not bite.

“Just you wait until all this is over...” Lestat threatened. Extremely reluctantly, he released David and stepped back, still feeling giddy.

David stood again, straightening his clothes. “I’ll look forward to it then.” He smiled. “Shall we go find Louis? I would like to see him.”

 _So would I,_ Lestat thought. A very small frown touched his lips, and he glanced in the direction of the library doors. “I think perhaps seeing you would do him good,” he said, doing his best not to sound too serious about it at all. “But he has no patience for me tonight.”

David felt concerned suddenly. He reached out and gently grasped Lestat’s arm. “Why has he no patience for you now? Did you upset him? I will speak with him about it.”

“I’m sure I did,” Lestat said with a shrug. But they would get over it, they always did. It had to be some rational explanation like that. Lestat refused to even think on the possibility of Louis’s mood being _irrational_ and what that might imply. No, it was just Lestat’s fault as usual. “I hope he’ll speak with you.” But he didn’t sound at all confident that it would actually happen.

“Well, I will find him when I’m done here.” David sat back down at the table and straightened the books again. “Do you want to sit and talk more?” He fixed his eyes on Lestat, enjoying the handsome figure he cut, and the rush of his blood that he felt in his veins now. How he loved him.

Putting the toe of his boot under his fallen chair, Lestat flipped it up and caught it, setting it right at the table again. “Oh, do you mean you’ll actually pay attention to anything I have to say now?” He gave David a fondly reproachful look.

David laughed a bit under his breath and spoke in a low voice, playful and suggestive. “Well, I’ll try to pay attention, now that you’ve satisfied me.” He smiled. He leaned back, remembering suddenly the visions he’d received from Lestat in the blood. “Really, are you quite all right? I saw things just now, when I had you. You’re overwhelmed, aren’t you? You fear for Louis. Tell me how I can help you.”

Lestat bristled and his fingers tightened on the top of the chair. He stared down at his hand for a moment. It had been too long since he’d slept in the sun, and his tan was fading terribly. And now he felt rather pale and cold all over after the blood David took.

His instinct was to lie and deny the questions like he’d been doing with Louis. But this was David… so he just shrugged indifferently. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.” He lifted his eyes to meet David’s again, smiling at the sight of him.

David frowned. “It didn’t feel like something you’re just handling.” He fixed Lestat with his best Superior General stare of doom and pointed to the chair Lestat was about to splinter. “Sit, please.”

Lestat’s eyes widened as he stared down at David. He felt he ought to be offended at that tone, but how could he be when David was so damn polite at the same time? He sat in the chair, in the right direction this time and folded his arms on the table, his fingertips brushing over the creamy texture of the paper of one of David’s books. “Well, I will,” he finally replied, not exactly argumentatively. “Handle it. That’s what I do. I handle things.”

David reached a hand and placed it over one of Lestat’s, brushing his thumb over the stone-silk of his skin. “But you have us, you know? The one thing I learned fast as the director of a multinational institution is to trust that others could do what I tasked them to, and to ask help when needed. You can’t run it alone.” He squeezed Lestat’s hand. “You have me and Louis. You have all the elders. Marius is here with all his years of strength and educated expertise. Gregory! He leads giant corporations. Seth and Fareed are doing all they can. Even Armand has leadership skills. He can wrangle the young ones up and talk to them when needed.” David tilted his head and tried to read Lestat’s real mood. Was he just depressed and worn down? Was it something deeper?

The gentleness of David’s touch made something within Lestat crack, and he wanted to push against it, to bury this track of conversation beneath all his more practical concerns and go on with his night in the same daunting pattern as always. He shook his head faintly against the impulse. “Yes, I know all that. I do. No one here has let me down. Not one of you.” He lifted his eyes to David’s. “It is a true council, as I wished. We lead together. I’m just the glorified figurehead. That suits me fine.”

There was a sadness that David was reading now. He wanted suddenly to lean in and drink from Lestat again, get the real details from the blood. He cursed himself inwardly for not paying closer attention when he had him on the floor.

He leaned in anyway and kissed him softly; ran a hand back over his soft gold hair. “You know, sometimes I think you are rather like a magnificent lion.” He rested his forehead against Lestat’s and sat in companionable silence with him for a moment.

The blatant affection startled Lestat, almost enough to make him suspicious. But he trusted David. He closed his eyes, and he couldn’t help smiling at the flattery, and he lifted a hand to lace his fingers through David’s on his hair. “Only sometimes?” he asked quietly.

David laughed under his breath. “Oh, I see, you want more flattery?” He considered for a moment whether or not to stroke Lestat’s ego right now, as it was a dangerous thing to do. But it seemed he needed it. “Your eyes are like sapphires,” he spoke quietly. “Your hair is a spill of golden light. You’re the one thing in this world that I love more than the mysteries of the universe and all the books in all the libraries of the world.” He nipped his own tongue with a fang tooth and kissed Lestat slowly, letting it warm them. He tried to impress upon Lestat all his support and love in one kiss.

The blood sent a pleasant jolt straight into Lestat’s brain, having the desired effect, and he reached for David, drawing him closer despite the unfortunate positioning of their chairs around his table.

“I don’t even want to know what I walked in on.” Louis’s voice came from behind them. He had slipped into the library, looking worse for wear.

Lestat was certainly glad to hear his voice. He’d been afraid Louis meant to avoid him completely with how his mood had been lately. He released David and looked over, Lestat’s whole demeanor seeming lighter now than it had in days. “David was just apologizing,” he said half-jokingly. “For neglecting to mind the sign.”

“So that’s what they call it now,” Louis said.

David pulled back, glad to have Louis here to help him with Lestat’s malaise, but when he got an actual look at the state of Louis, he froze. Something was horribly wrong. His features were gaunt, his eyes hollow. There was a worrying amount of blood surrounded his mouth, showing he’d fed, yet it did not seem to revitalize him as it should. David stood and went to him, pulling out a chair from another table and gently urging Louis to sit.

“Louis, what is this? You are a mess. You never eat this sloppily.” David laid a hand on Louis’s forehead to feel for a fever; an old mortal habit that hadn’t died. “We should take you to Fareed.”

Louis felt the now, all too familiar anger bubbling. “That isn’t necessary,” he said firmly. “Though it would be convenient, no?” He knew how ridiculous this sounded. Normally he was secure enough in his relationship...whatever it was...with Lestat. But everything set him off these days.

David felt a twinge of hurt at Louis’s words. He opened his mouth to placate him, but Lestat spoke up first.

“Absolutely not necessary,” Lestat agreed, giving David a look that was halfway between perturbed and bemused. “Fareed has enough on his hands with this virus.” Rising, he took out his handkerchief and offered it to Louis for his messy face. “Louis hasn’t left the castle since we’ve learned about it,” he explained to David. So therefore he couldn’t possibly be sick.

Lestat was displaying a level of denial David didn’t know existed. Was this the source of unrest he had read in Lestat? “Clearly, he is unwell.” He looked back at Louis. “You need to be seen by Fareed now, Louis. I will tell him myself if I have to.” David pulled his phone out of his pocket.

Louis adamantly shook his head. “Lestat is right,” he said, fumbling for words as Lestat cleaned his face. His muscles tensed and he looked nervously about the room. “Stop it!” he snapped

Lestat sighed exasperatedly, putting the handkerchief away. Over the last few days, he’d tried everything to get through Louis’s mood. Snipping back at him, ignoring him, being sweet with him, nothing worked.

He shook his head at David. “Don’t waste Fareed’s time. He’ll be tending to…” He paused, realizing they wouldn’t know about Armand yet. Lestat desperately didn’t want anyone to know, afraid what it would mean for him. But he reminded himself Louis and David loved Armand as much as he did. He lowered his voice to a hush. “Armand has developed the symptoms.”

“Armand?” David was at a loss for words. He didn’t know what to do with this new information. It meant the virus was truly in the chateau. Could it spread from vampire to vampire? He’d just drunk from Lestat. He looked again at Louis, who was too thin, with eyes sunk too deep. “Lestat, Louis needs help too. Fareed is going to have to figure a way to help more than one infected person at a time. We have to take Louis to him.”

Louis didn’t seem to register Armand’s fate. It was all too much to process. “I’m not sick,” he said as he reached up to move his hair out of his face.

“Louis’s not infected,” Lestat said at almost the same time. “Unless you’ve drunk from Armand,” he added, shooting him a look. He honestly didn’t think Louis would, but he couldn’t refrain from making the barb as the last of the raised spirits David instilled in him crashed and burned.

However, as Louis lowered his arm, his sleeve shifted, and the marks on his skin showed he’d been trying to feed from himself. The realization was like being splashed with ice water. Lestat snatched his arm. “Louis!” he snapped angrily. Was he just doing this punish Lestat now?? “We’re going down to the dungeons. Now.” He just needed to feed properly. The blood down there was safe. The blood would restore him.

David sighed heavily and threw his hands in the air. “Fine. Take him to the dungeons. But if he is infected, it risks infecting the other humans down there and then the whole food supply is tainted.” He glared angrily at Lestat. He reached for Louis’s other arm. “Louis, please see reason. I’m your brother. I don’t want you to be suspicious of what I’m trying to do here. Let’s just go visit Fareed. If you are not sick, then he will clear you, and all is well.”

Louis did not pull away this time. Guilt beat out the anger for this moment. “I…suppose we could go to him. To show him that you are being paranoid,” he relented.

“No,” Lestat said, though he sounded more worried than commanding. “He’ll find nothing, but if we go to his laboratory, that won’t stop others from making assumptions, from spreading whispers. There is enough unrest in court as it is.” He was speaking more to David now. “Every soul here is just as important… but Louis is my consort and that makes it different, and you know it.”

However, the sincere concern in David’s expression made Lestat finally begin to fear the worst. And he hated it immensely. Hearing an actual denial from Fareed would put an end to that, so he sighed in frustrated compromise and gestured to David’s phone. “Tell him to come to my office.” Taking Louis’s arm gently, afraid he’d rip it away, Lestat took him out of the library to go there to await him, leaving David behind as he began texting Fareed immediately.

On the way to his office, Lestat acted to everyone they passed as if nothing at all were the matter, showing great interest in any of their concerns to make certain they paid no attention to Louis behind him at all. Louis followed closely and kept his head down, trying to resist the urge to attack Letstat or take another bite out of his own arm.

Finally, they made it there, and Lestat shut the door, his shoulders sinking as soon as he and Louis were alone, feeling all the colder now for all the blood David took from him. “We’ll get this over with quickly,” he assured Louis.

He shook his head. “Has anything like this ever happened before?” he asked accusingly. But he quickly apologized. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

“You know it hasn’t,” Lestat said softly, barely on the edge of his breath as he stared at Louis in dismay. There had to be some other explanation. Anything else.

“Then you don’t know what’s going to happen.” Louis was rubbing at his arm in attempt to distract himself.

Fareed had been working tirelessly since this mess began. He had been in turn neglecting his own wellbeing, but none of that mattered, for he managed to have one successful trial on a rat. It didn’t mean much, but it was a glimmer of hope. Now he knocked on the prince’s office door out of politeness. “You requested my presence?” he asked carefully. He sounded tired, but at least he wasn’t infected.

Lestat felt a mixture of resentment and relief at the interruption. “Enter,” he called, though he didn’t take his eyes off Louis until Fareed appeared, then he finally shot him a look, obviously angry. “Tell me Louis does not have this infection,” although his voice was quiet, it was an order.

The doctor entered the room and looked at Louis. He didn’t need to do a test to know that telling Lestat such a thing would be a lie. “Your highness, I can tell you whatever you want to hear. But it might not be the truth,” he said, walking on eggshells. “Do you want my immediate differential, or should I run a test?”

Lestat bristled at the formal address. He’d told everyone to just call him Lestat over and over again, but they never heeded. “Run the damn test,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Of course,” he said, knowing that these were likely going to be his last moments in existence. How he missed Seth. He pulled a small spray bottle out of his pocket. He first sprayed Lestat to show him it was water. “Baseline” he said.

Lestat almost slapped the bottle out of Fereeds hand. What the hell did he think he was doing? He pulled out his handkerchief to dry himself off, but when he saw the blood on it from Louis’s face, he just dropped it on the desk instead.

Now, Fareed sprayed Louis. Louis jumped back and screamed, running his hands over the spot as if it were fire. His eyes had a ferocity behind them that was rarely seen.

“What have you done?” Lestat snapped at Fareed, startled, as he tried to take Louis by the arms.

“It’s water,” Fareed explained, speaking quickly. “Demonstrating hydrophobia is the safest way to get a differential. No risk of cross contamination.”

Louis finally calmed. He looked helplessly at Lestat. Now there was no room for denial.

Reluctantly, Lestat released Louis and turned back to Fareed, looking furious. He couldn’t stand seeing that expression on Louis’s face. “Then you mean you are certain of this? There is no doubt?”

“Unless he was afraid of water before. I do not have a doubt,” Fareed said, trying to keep his own emotions from leaking into the diagnosis.

Lestat clenched his teeth, his nails digging into his palms. “And?? Get on with it. What now?? What’s to be done?”

“If I had a definite answer, I would tell you,” he said. “I have had a successful trial with a rat, but a rat and a human are two different things…” He paused. “For his safety, I request he stay in isolation.”

“A trial of what?” Lestat glanced back at Louis abruptly as if afraid he’d dissolved in the few moments he wasn’t paying attention to him. “What do you mean his safety? What is the risk?”

“A trial for a cure,” Fareed said. He hated that word because it gave more hope than he felt was reasonable. “The risk is he’d hurt himself in frustration.”

The word indeed gave Lestat hope and it showed in his entire countenance. “He’ll stay in his rooms,” he agreed. It was for the best anyway. Lestat didn’t want it getting out to the general public that Louis was affected. “That’s all? Until your cure is complete?”

“That is all I have right now. I will want to test others. But there is no indication it can be transmitted between our kind,” he reassured him. “I think my time, for now, is better spent working towards a cure.” He bowed his head. “I am sorry I do not have better news.”

“Indeed,” Lestat snapped, glaring daggers at Fareed. Oh, he was angry all right, but not really at the doctor. It was a shapeless anger that had no direction, which only made it all the worse. “So make it happen.”

“I will give it my best effort,” he said quietly before leaving the office. He’d never felt so lonely in his life.

Louis stood there wordlessly, looking at Lestat. He was awake but seemed out of it. His brows knit as if he were trying to register what had been said.

Lestat continued to glare at the door even after Fareed was gone, but then slowly turned back to Louis, almost reluctantly, as if he didn’t want to see him and acknowledge the truth. Once he finally did, though, he could see it all over him, the same as it had been with Armand. And he knew he’d only been lying to himself before. He owed David an apology.

Carefully, he took Louis in his arms, pulling close to him, his chin over his shoulder. “All this will pass,” he said very quietly, but convinced it was true.

Louis folded himself in Lestat’s arms, finding comfort there. However, a few moments later, he sank his fangs into Lestat’s neck. He could not help himself. The thirst was too strong and the opportunity presented itself.

Lestat gasped in shock, going rigid. His reflexes urged him to tear Louis from him, but in the same moment, he knew that if there was danger in this, it was already too late. And the fact that Louis had done it at all damn near broke his heart. He couldn’t bear to push him so roughly. All his terror at what it would mean to lose Louis rushed out with his blood. Either lose him completely, or even just in spirit if this condition drove him to act so against his usual nature. Tears rose to his eyes. “Louis,” he gasped, his hand moving to his black hair to try to pull him off gently. “Stop… You must stop.”

The pulling of his hair was enough to startle him. Louis pulled back, a trickle of blood running down his chin. He looked at Lestat. “I’m sorry,” he said as realization of what he did hit him. “I’m so sorry.”

Releasing Louis, Lestat leaned back against his desk, feeling dizzy. His hand went to his throat, but by the time his fingers brushed it, the wounds were already healed. “It’s… Louis… It’s all right,” he said, not wanting Louis to get upset. How he wished he had a clean handkerchief; his eyes were swimming with red. There might be one in the desk, but he didn’t feel up for looking. “We’ll go out. If you’ve already caught this thing, there’s no reason not to go. We’ll go out, and you’ll drink as much as you need.”

Louis shook his head. “It’s not alright,” he whispered. “I...I’m scared,” he admitted just as quietly. He reached out for Lestat’s hand. He needed some sort of contact. Lestat was his rock.

Lestat drew him to him, turning him so his arm wrapped around him, Louis’s back against his chest this time... a safer position. “There’s nothing to be scared about,” he said quietly, close to Louis’s ear. “Fareed made this thing, and he will unmake it. Or it will pass on its own, like illnesses do with humans. And you will be all the stronger for having defeated it, as it always goes with our kind. Until that happens, I will take care of you.”

Louis again relaxed. He exhaled, trying to hold on to whatever strength he had left. “I hope so. I feel awful.” Despite everything, it felt good to be able to speak freely about his state. “And I trust you will. You always do.”

“Let’s go out,” Lestat repeated, truly believing a lot of good hot mortal blood was the solution to everything. “I’ll take you anywhere you like. …Anywhere we can drive to.” He didn’t feel he had the strength to fly right now.

“I don’t feel well enough to go out right now,” Louis admitted quietly. “I do want to lie down.”

Lestat sighed against Louis’s hair, then turning his face down against his shoulder, he pressed a kiss to it. “Yes,” he agreed, feeling rather exhausted himself from all the blood loss. “Let me take you to bed.”

That Louis hadn’t snapped at him in a sudden bout of rage for almost ten minutes now already had Lestat hoping that perhaps a good rest would be enough to get him over this thing.

———————————————

Gregory sat on a couch in a corner of Fareed’s lab. He’d been talking endlessly on the phone with his company CEOs. Then he’d called Seth and assured him Fareed would be safe and that he (Gregory) would make sure he was unharmed by any angry mobs. In fact, Gregory wondered where Fareed was now. He used the mind gift to scan for the doctor.

Just as this was happening, Fareed entered his laboratory. He was unable to stop the blood tears from staining his cheeks. These were tears of mourning, frustration, and exhaustion. “Good evening,” he greeted wearily. “Sorry I kept you waiting. Lestat wished to see me.”

Gregory stood immediately and went to Fareed, seeing the tears sliding down his face. “What is wrong? Why these tears now? Are you ill too?” He pulled Fareed close and wiped the tears from his face with this thumbs.

He leaned into the touch though he felt he didn’t deserve this gentleness. “No, I’m not ill,” he said. “Does your company manufacture a rabies vaccine?” he inquired. “I want to reverse engineer it.”

“Of course it does,” Gregory answered. “And you don’t need to reverse engineer it. I can have the scientists give you the methods for making it.”

Fareed looked grateful. “Thank you, truly. You’ve saved us a lot of time.” He felt a bit of relief. The first bit he’d felt in ages. “I am hoping to hybridize it with this virus and maybe it will work. If not…back to square one.” It took every fiber of his being not to cling to Gregory.

Gregory kissed Fareed’s forehead gently. “I spoke with Seth. He is worried for your safety here. I am worried for your sanity.”

“Thank you, I appreciate you reaching out to him. I…didn’t want him to worry.” He laughed hollowly. “But I guess that backfired, huh?”

Gregory felt an enormous affection for Fareed, as if he were his own fledgling. He ran his hands over Fareed’s soft hair and kissed his face several times. “You don’t have to do this alone. I have brilliant scientists that work for me too. I can send them data and they can run tests for you. What about all the vampire scientists you have back in California? We can set up video conferences with them.”

Fareed squeezed his eyes shut and ran a hand down his face. The prospect of having more hands and more resources was inviting, but it also scared him. “Won’t that raise alarms?” he asked quietly. What he didn’t want to say aloud was that he was punishing himself.

“Who cares about alarms right now? Think bigger picture, Fareed. You can’t hide things and expect it to get better. We have to make connections and get everyone on the same page.” Gregory smiled at Fareed’s timidity. “Come on, it will be fun! I hear there is this new app called Zoom.”

“Alright,” he relented. “There are two amongst us that are ill. There is a lot at stake.” His tone was riddled with guilt. “Let’s set up a Zoom call and make some progress.”

————————————————

David knew it would be a long haul now, all of them trapped with this threat dangling over each of their heads like a dagger waiting to fall. Who would be next? He knew Armand had it and more than likely Louis as well. He wanted to go to Louis, comfort him. But he wouldn’t intrude on him now, not after what he saw last night. So he sat in the lavish castle gardens and stared up at the starry skies, breathing in the fresh June air.

Meanwhile, Lestat had begun to feel like a tiger in a cage—in his own home, imagine! Even though he no longer truly needed to feed to survive, hadn’t needed to in decades, he still wanted it desperately. He knew if he was anywhere near temptation, it would be impossible to resist, so he dared not put himself in that position. And just knowing he couldn’t go out and hunt was enough to make the walls seem to close in. What was worse, there was nothing he could do to help Louis or Armand or Fareed with his work.

He needed air, so he went out into the gardens, which he never had the time to properly enjoy with all else he had to do around court. But things had become so silent and empty now since the disaster began, and it was almost like visiting someplace new. When he sensed another there whose mind was locked to him, he knew it must be one of his beloved fledglings, so he tracked him down and was pleased to see David, though he could tell his mood tonight was no better than his own. “I hope they give you some solace,” he said of the stars. “There’s little else to derive it from lately.”

David smiled half-heartedly at the familiar voice and looked at Lestat. The moonlight gave him an ethereal beauty. “Hello, old man,” he greeted. He looked Lestat up and down slowly. “How is Louis tonight?”

Moving past David’s bench, Lestat went to the ornate railing that overlooked the lower gardens, putting his hand down on the cold stone. “You were right, damn it,” he said almost under his breath. “He’s…resting now.”

David stood and went to Lestat. He leaned back against the railing and tried to think of the proper words for this moment. “I’m sorry.” David felt a great fear for Louis wash over him. What if this was a thing that couldn’t be turned around? He reached over to Lestat, and placed a hand on his shoulder, needing some sort of contact suddenly, and moving closer to him so they were touching as they leaned against the railing.

Lestat’s eyelids fluttered, and he took a sharp breath before turning his face to look at David, at how his dark eyes glinted in the light of the moon. Lifting a hand, he clasped it over David’s on his shoulder, sliding his fingers between his. “I keep trying to get him to go out, to feed… There’s no point in his abstaining now. But he hasn’t the energy.”

David thought about this for a minute. “Why don’t we go down to the dungeons and pick out a victim for him and take it up to his room?”

Even though Lestat knew he should save those mortals for the others in the castle as yet uninfected who needed them, he couldn’t help liking the idea. If he’d done such a thing himself, he’d fear Louis would reject it, but if David did it, he had much higher hopes Louis would accept. “Yes.” He squeezed his hand. “Go and do it, and bring them to our tower. I’ll meet you in his apartment.”

David smiled and left Lestat, to go to the dungeons and find the perfect victim for Louis.

———————

Louis hated to worry his maker. Currently, he was laying in his bedroom in his apartment directly below Lestat’s at the top of their tower, fighting the inner battle between rage, hunger, and flat-out exhaustion. The latter seemed to be winning more often than not. No matter how much he did feed, it didn’t give him any sustenance.

Lestat let himself in to Louis’s apartment without knocking, but hesitated outside the bedroom door. He could hear his heartbeat, and it sounded different… Not faster or slower than usual, but still different, and he didn’t like it one bit. He went into the room and sat on the side of Louis’s bed, putting a hand to his face and looking down at him. “I’m having a victim brought up here for you.”

Louis looked up from his half-asleep state. “No thank you,” he muttered. Though he was elated to see Letstat. “I can’t promise I can feed,” he admitted as he reached out to his maker for comfort.

“You can. I know you can.” He put his other hand on the other side of Louis’s face, leaning down over him. “You’ll try. Please.”

“Fine,” he relented.

Down in the dungeon prisons, David found a wiry man. He was a drug dealer from some far away land, and he cursed David in his native language. David had no patience to listen or learn what drove this man’s angry soul. He hit him across the head in just the right location and knocked him unconscious.

Now, he stood at the Louis’s door with this man hanging at his side and he knocked politely. He felt a bit like a food delivery service and tried not to laugh inappropriately at this moment.

“Come,” Lestat called at the sound of the knock. He straightened from Louis, but did not rise.

David brought the victim in. It was easier for him to think of them as “the victim” and not give them any more description. Rather like not naming the farm animals bound for slaughter. He observed Louis limp on the bed, Lestat seated beside him. “Louis?” David spoke softly.

Louis turned his head, which took a lot more effort than he anticipated. He was relieved to see David. The victim, however, roused his hunger which had never fully subsided. He sat up and, almost too quickly, he pulled the man close and violently bit into him, severing the cervical artery, creating quite the mess in the process.

Lestat moved back quickly, avoiding the spray, his usual aversion to spilled blood rising even in spite of the extreme circumstances. He could only watch with something like horror to see Louis reduced to this state, unable to look away.

Backing up slowly to the wall, Lestat tapped the intercom to silently summon the servants who would make all the mess disappear easily enough. Then his hand clasped David’s wrist, needing the stability of something as he waited with all his hopes to see how much Louis would be improved after the blood worked on him.

David moved closer, his body pressed along Lestat’s. Louis was ravenous and it was hard not to watch the feeding without feeling a twinge of animal lust himself. He was fascinated by the pool of blood on the floor.

Louis licked the blood off his lips and he looked up between them. Though the blood did sate him in the moment, it didn’t last. Nor did it seem to improve him physically.

Shakily, Lestat released David’s arm and went back to the bed. Pulling the dead body off it, he tossed it into the corner, then used the sheets to gently wipe the blood off of Louis. He didn’t look better at all, which made no sense, and that made Lestat tenser. “You need more, don’t you?” he said quietly. He had half a mind to pick Louis up and fly out the window with him and just let him loose in Paris to do what he needed to be satisfied. Anything.

Louis shook his head. He didn’t need more, though the disease would push him to feed anyway.

David saw the distress in Lestat, and the overall illness in Louis. It tore at his heart to see them both this way. He moved to the bed, stepped past the blood on the floor. He knelt beside the bed, close to Lestat and leaned across to smooth the damp hair from Louis forehead. It felt cold. His usual bright eyes were clouded. Unable to resist, David leaned across Louis body and kissed his forehead, “Hello, old man.”

“I think you’re referring to Letstat,” Louis teased, despite being physically older than his Maker.

Lestat rolled his eyes. “I’m only six years older than you.”

“Could have fooled me,” he said with whatever was left of his humor. But the humor faded quickly.

David couldn’t help himself and moved down to kiss Louis’s mouth, tasting the blood still staining it and licking it away.

He returned the kiss but broke it off. “Don’t tempt me... I’m not myself. I could hurt you.”

Lestat put an anxious hand on David’s shoulder. It wasn’t Louis’s blood he was tasting, just the mortal’s but it still seemed too much of a risk. If David fell ill too, god help him, Lestat didn’t know how he’d endure.

Lestat still felt fine since last night when Louis had bitten him, so at least they knew the virus probably didn’t spread that way. He slid his fingers between Louis’s. “You wouldn’t hurt our David,” he said softly, reassuringly.

Louis looked at David and shook his head. “Not on purpose… but I do not know if this disease will drive me otherwise.”

David pulled back, slightly stung by the rejection but all too aware why. He felt Lestat so close and heard his whispered words to Louis. This couldn’t be happening. They couldn’t lose Louis. “Please Louis, you must keep fighting this thing.” He continued to slide fingers through the soft black hair and ran his thumb along the finely drawn arch of Louis’s eyebrow. He shared a look of distress with Lestat.

Louis reached a hand out to David and gently cupped his cheek. “I will do my very best.”

Lestat heard the servants come into the room to take the body away, but he ignored them. Once they were gone, he rose, going around the other side to sit on the center of the bed beside Louis, facing him. “We won’t let you hurt him. We’ll tie you down if we have to. Don’t worry about hurting anyone.”

David leaned into Louis’s touch and couldn’t help but place a gentle kiss against his wrist. “Why don’t I just let him drink from me? I don’t care if I get it. We don’t even know if it passes from vampire to vampire.” He implored Lestat to allow it.

Lestat’s brow pinched. “I care,” he said with hushed severity. But he did not think Louis drinking from David would infect him, so he wouldn’t prevent it. “It will leave you thirsting,” he warned David. And he was already abstaining so much, he’d have to replenish what he lost somehow.

“I appreciate the sentiment. Both of you,” Louis said, indicating that he was too tired to argue. “I think I’m going to shut my eyes for some time.” He paused. “You both can stay if you’d like,” he added as an afterthought.

Lestat flinched. He wanted to strip Louis out of this bloodstained bed, put him in fresh clothes first, but he was wary of moving him. So he just leaned over Louis, pressing a kiss to the corner of his eye. “Yes. Sleep, my love. We will be right here.”


	6. Deathbed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daniel visits Armand during his convalescence and gets in over his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for yet another Extra Long Chapter. These angsty bois just have so many feelings to get out!

Armand hadn’t long risen. Well, risen was a slight overstatement. He’d barely moved an inch, sprawled out across his mattress in an almost human fashion, sweat-dampened hair strewn across his eyes. They’d left him alone, everyone, to tend to the more vulnerable. He’d been deemed strong enough to control himself. He glanced at the clock. It was exceedingly late, 11:30. So why did he feel so weak, so exhausted? Why was there a sheen of blood sweat upon his skin when his body had been battling frequent chills? He wondered vaguely about Louis, how he fared, if he had experienced these things. He knew that for Louis it was probably worse. At least the thirst hadn’t come yet.

Daniel could hear the blood pounding in his ears as he made his way to Armand’s quarters, and he could feel his hands shaking slightly in his pockets. As soon as Marius had come to him with the news he knew he needed to see Armand. Sick, Marius had said, already taken with the fury and chills, denying the thirst but no one sure if he truly hadn’t felt it yet or if he was just strong enough to resist.

Strong. Daniel had to remind himself, his maker was strong, changed with the blood of Marius half a millennium ago. True, he’d rarely taken old blood since his turning but he was still Armand, powerful enough to be alright. Totally. Yeah.

There was a heavy lock on the outside of Armand’s door, quickly added in by a blood drinker good with a set of tools, but light spilled out beneath the door. Gently he rapped his knuckles on the heavy carved wood and willed his voice to be calm. “Hey, boss? You uh…you up?”

Armand sighed lightly at the sound of Daniel’s voice. He was agitated, yes, because Daniel was here. Because he wasn’t safe here. He bit back the frustration, perhaps too tired to maintain it at this point, and tried to lace his voice with affection for Daniel’s sake.

“I am awake, mon ange,” he spoke delicately. He knew Daniel took pleasure in his voice sometimes, and he wanted to keep it as pleasant as possible. “But you should not be here, did Marius not warn you to stay away?” Of course he had, it was Marius. But this was Daniel Molloy, and he was never renowned for his common sense.

Daniel laughed once in the back of his throat, and leaned forward to press his forehead to the door, as though he needed help to stay upright. “Yeah, I don’t even want to think of the scolding I’m gonna get when he finds out,” he admitted through the door. “I’ve never been under his whip but God damn the lectures that man can give, right?” When Armand didn’t reply, he shuffled his feet, trying to calm his still shaking hands.

“I just wanted to talk, babe. I uh…I know Louis’s really not having A Good Time, so I…I needed to check on you, and didn’t know if you’d answer your phone.”

Armand bristled at the mention of Louis and his condition. It fueled the frustration that his body couldn’t maintain any longer but his mind was so, so insistent on experiencing. He groaned quietly at the exhaustion of this physical conflict, attempting to focus on Daniel’s attempt at humor to distract him.

“I appreciate it, dear heart, but I am here and surviving. And you should be elsewhere living. And if Marius does scold you, send him to me. I’ll give him a piece of my mind.” It was an empty promise, for what could he threaten Marius with even when he was in full health?

Daniel laughed again and made no move to leave. “What would I do, Armand? Everyone is either with Louis or Fareed or trying to get Benji’s equipment to work or getting in contact with family…I have you and Marius, and Marius is trying to get shit together…how do you feel?” Armand sounded like he’d just woken up, despite the hour, which worried Daniel.

Armand rolled his eyes at this, making no attempt himself to move still.

“Danny, my love, you have to be strong now, we all do. You have to learn how to be alone now. So that we may all come together again after this.” He spoke as firmly as he could manage. He did not answer the question, it was a stupid and ignorant question. Of course he felt like absolute death, in a way that he never had.

Well Daniel sure as shit noticed the lack of answer and, knowing trying the patience of the devil was a foolish idea, he knocked again. “Babe, come on… just tell me how you’re holding up?” he implored, trying to keep his voice gentle and keep the worry out of it. “I’m a big boy, I know how to be on my own but I know you’re sick…and you haven’t been sick in 500 years. Can I get you anything?” What Armand could possibly want, what he could get him, Daniel didn’t know, but he felt helpless right then.

“Don’t be stupid, Daniel,” Armand shot. His voice only half conveyed the fury, weak as it was. “What the hell could you do for me, hmm? Get me some water, hand me some of those magical little pills that mortals take to alleviate pain? Make me soup? Honestly, just how misguided could you be?” He still had not moved, cheek pressed to the cool sheets, the stench of his sweat permeating the air. His bed was stained with the shape of his body now. “Go. That is what you can do for me. I’ve tried asking you nicely.”

…That hurt. Even though he had been on the receiving end of Armand’s rages for years, though they’d made each other cry and bleed and slam doors more than they could count, it stung. Even knowing it was a part of Armand’s sickness…it still fucking hurt. But few people could match Armand’s stubborn streak like his fledgling.

“Do you need more blankets?” he pressed, ignoring the biting words. “Or fresh sheets? I have plenty of movies on my laptop I could bring you…”

Honestly Daniel just felt helpless. He often did; he was one of the youngest living in the castle, but he wasn’t nearly as weak as they assumed, not with this blood in his veins. Daniel didn’t want a place at the table, but it would be nice sometimes to not be turned away at the door. “Babe…we could just talk.”

Armand groaned again out of pure frustration, louder this time. “Don’t you see, you perfect little cretin?! I cannot let you in. I do not know when the blood lust will return and if I hurt you I will never forgive myself, and Marius will never forgive me!” Daniel had pushed him to the point where his anger took precedence over his weariness again. If he’d been holding himself up in any regard, he might have collapsed as it faded. The blood tears pricked his eyes at the use of that word again, babe. It meant just as much to him as any sweet whisper in Marius’s multitude of beautiful languages.

Out in the hall, Daniel grew quiet for a moment but he could not will himself to leave. What would he do? Go mind himself in his room like a good boy? Go find Marius and get in his way? He so often worried he was just a burden now, independent enough to not need the blood wiped from his face but still of little use.

So instead he sat himself down onto the floor, cross-legged, all bony knees and elbows that never tucked in right. “So you wanna listen to a podcast together?” he asked quietly. “I can slip my phone halfway under the door “

Armand sighed deeply, a pang of guilt overcoming him. He knew that he’d hurt his fledgling. He knew against all odds that he should not let him in, that if Marius found out he would whip them both within an inch of their lives. But he also understood that Daniel wouldn’t stop. He was too much like him, too tenacious. And damn it, he’d been deemed strong enough to be left alone. And he felt so weak right now, too weak to attack anyway.

“…I’ll allow it for a short while,” he murmured reluctantly. “Just so you can see for yourself that I am…” What? Well? Alive? Barely. “Breathing. But you promise me that the second I show any signs of aggression or bloodlust you will put the world of distance between the two of us and lock the door behind you.”

Daniel was quiet, letting the invitation sink in, and he felt his hand raise to hover over the handle to his door. Eying the new lock, he knew it was a futile bit of security, banking on the fact that as strong as Armand’s spells and mind gifts were, he would be shaky enough to not be able to focus on undoing it.

Well. They didn’t count on Daniel and his Bad Life Choices it seemed; he could pick a lock.

“You didn’t promise me before you entered, Daniel.” Armand spoke darkly. “You promise me now or you can leave for good, and there will be no interaction between us.” He made a small effort to move, to pull himself up against the headboard. He felt his skin almost peel away from the slick sheets. He felt absolutely putrid, and his small nose wrinkled in disgust. The effort of it made him dizzy, and he hung his head and closed his eyes to refocus himself.

“…I promise,” Daniel stuttered at the door, waiting a moment to be sure Armand would accept it. “Promise, hon, I’ll leave. I’ll run straight to Marius, ok?”

God damn he looked bad. He never thought he’d ever see Armand looking anything but angelic. Even being fed the images from others, of Armand the graveyard penitent or the homeless thing dusty and ragged, he’d always had this broken beauty to him. Now, though, he resembled something out of a del Toro movie. Beneath smears of fresh and drying blood his skin was a corpse-like grey, looking deeply bruised around his eyes. His curls lay lank against his face and his thin shirt clung to him, obviously damp even from here. The shaking frightened Daniel most though, making his lover look frail and weak in a way he’d never known.

Wordless he stepped forward, trying to keep his face and demeanor calm. Sitting on the edge of Armand’s bed, he reached forward slowly and laid a hand on his cheek, nearly startling at how icy he felt. “…Want a change of clothes?”

Armand startled at the touch. How was Daniel so warm? He looked at him, eyes heavy lidded and serving as a vessel for his every conflicting emotion, as they were wont to do. He wanted to be relieved that Daniel had promised, but he couldn’t be. He should not be here, and the guilt gave way to another bout of frustration.

“Fine,” he hissed, biting his own tongue extremely hard afterwards to ensure he didn’t say anything else hurtful. He swallowed the mouthful of blood it released, some escaping from his lips as he did. The blood was like nothing on his tongue. He wanted it, needed it, and yet any taste of it was so far away, almost as if he’d lost his sense of taste.

Daniel was quick to reach for it, to wipe it from Armand’s chin, but he remembered and recoiled the same moment Armand shot him a death glare. Watching Armand wipe the blood into his already soiled shirt, Daniel rose to dig through Armand’s wide dresser, filled with every item of clothing that ever caught his fancy, from novelty t-shirts to crisp linen button ups to sweaters so long they hung to his knees.

But Daniel found what he was looking for easy enough, the t-shirts Armand had a tendency to “borrow” from Daniel without intention to return. He pulled out a worn black one, figuring the dark color would hide the blood.

Appraising the way Armand trembled, barely able to hold himself upright, he nodded to himself. “Here. I’ll help, ok?” he offered lightly, already pulling gently on his soiled shirt and hoping to not be slapped.

Armand nodded, feeling the spitefulness subside slightly. God, if it was not anger it was thirst, if not thirst, exhaustion, and sometimes all three at once. Daniel’s concern, having him here with him, was a welcome respite though. He lifted his arms, face screwing up terribly with the effort of it all, such a small thing making him angry. He was Armand, _The_ Armand, by god, he should be able to lift his own arms.

“Thank you…” he whispered brokenly, Daniel’s actions soothing him. It had not gone unnoticed that this was a shirt he’d borrowed from Daniel, decades ago.

“Yeah, ‘course,” Daniel shrugged, tugging the t-shirt down into place, already sure it would be soaked through in an hour. He reached at Armand’s bedside table for a hair band and pulled his tangled mess of red hair up into a ponytail for him, wondering if he’d like a wash later. If he’d let Daniel do such a thing, or if that kind of intimacy was for Marius alone.

Well. For now at least he could slide into Armand’s bathroom and soak a washcloth in hot water, helping wipe the blood from his face and neck.

“There’s a new episode of that crime show you like, the one that gets really gory?” he suggested one of their favorite pastimes. “I can turn your lamp down, see if you can get some rest while we listen?”

Armand let Daniel pull his hair up, feeling slightly better to have the damp and sticky curls away from the back of his neck. sighed gratefully against the warm flannel. It was wet, yes, and he was damn tired of being wet. But it was also warm, and Armand had felt so, so cold for so many nights now. How strange time was, really. Shouldn’t Marius be back to see him by now?

“I want you to hold me, while we do that,” he murmured, despite his best judgment. “And I’m sorry if I’ve been cruel, and mean, my love. I can’t remember ever being quite this horrid. Not so constantly anyway. Perhaps I was once. But I was not always exhausted and so painfully desperate for blood then as well.”

Daniel laid a soft kiss to Armand’s smooth forehead, hearing him sigh gently at the touch. “‘Course, babe.” And he curled up behind him, tugging Armand close to him as the little spoon, trying to not shiver himself at how cold Armand was. This was how he felt in the last hours of the death sleep; he remembers from his days as a mortal, staring at his boyfriend in rapt horror as he slept. But to be so cold now…well, Daniel was hardly warm, but in comparison…

And it seemed as though Armand might be able to doze off. His breathing was slow at least, and deep, as Daniel stroked the back of his hand down the side of his face. Honestly if he could just fall asleep then this would be a lot easier than Daniel expected! No harm no foul, and Marius wouldn’t have to give either of them A Look.

Armand turned into Daniel with the little energy he had, craving the intimacy. He wanted his maker too, the two people he trusted…where _was_ he? The thought that he couldn’t have Marius too wounded him. That he was too busy now to see him, when he felt like this. He felt suddenly immensely sad, too tired to school his face against it, and he twisted his hand into Daniel’s shirt out of neediness more than anger.

“How do I look?” he asked quietly, an attempt to lighten the mood. He’d always been a little bit vain, or since the Children of Darkness had become the theatre, anyway. And especially in Venice. And he knew the question might put a smile on Daniel’s face.

“…the answer to that depends entirely on how much you love me,” he laughed, giving the very lightest pinch to Armand’s cheek. “…you look like shit, babe, but it’s not your fault. Remember when I had that flu back in 83? You fucking screamed when you saw me, and I haven’t done THAT to you yet so it can’t be that bad right?”

Armand nodded. He did indeed remember. Part of him wanted to just hear that he was beautiful. He’d been told that all his life, and he wanted to hear it now, when it wasn’t true, from somebody he loved.

“…I feel like shit,” he chuckled very weakly, closing his eyes. He very rarely swore, not in such modern terms anyway. But it was the fact of the matter, and it didn’t need to be glamorized. “But if you wish to leave this room with your head, I suggest you start lying and call me beautiful.”

Daniel started to laugh but he swallowed it quickly, knowing Armand was serious and also scary. “You’re always beautiful, babe,” he said, twirling a loose curl back into his bun. “It’s just right now it’s less of a Boticceli angel and more of a Victorian tuberculosis painting way!”

His lip quirked at his fledgling’s remark. He would have hit him, if he’d had the energy. He didn’t remember when he’d last felt so calm. “…Tell me why you think I’m beautiful.” He knew he was being conceited, but he felt absolutely vile. He needed to hear it. “For me to you, I love your eyes the most. I always did. And then your smile, especially when you’d felt like you’d won. Your hair, such a lovely color. And your scent, some heady mix of whiskey and cigarettes. It should have been disgusting, but I loved it. Only now you smell a little less. I’ve always loved how you stand up to me. I should have fed you more, though, not let you drink as much too.”

Daniel’s eyes fluttered down, a bit of shyness that rarely took him, and he threaded his fingers through Armand’s to hold his hand tighter. “You tried. Remember that week I ate nothing but Goldfish crackers? You did your best.” Another kiss to Armand’s cheek this time. “I love your curls, when you’d fall asleep in the middle of the night and wake up with them all fluffy…and your fangs. Fucking adorable, I always loved seeing them, it felt dangerous to see you smile…Is it creepy that I love how short and little you are? I could always hold you so tight “

“Many men have reveled in my stature, Danny. It speaks to some sort of weakness, vulnerability. Something to take advantage of. Many men love it, perhaps that is the man in you.” He spoke quietly, voice free of judgement as he did. He was long since accustomed to it, and could work it to his advantage, and he knew his own strength well enough to know the truth of it all. “Marius, I think, is much the same…”

“I’ve seen the way he picks you up and holds you, he adores it,” Daniel said with a scoff; that much was obvious. “But even if you’d grown as tall and broad as your dad, I’m sure he’d still love you.”

He felt Armand give another shiver against his chest, and he pulled the blanket up higher around his shoulders. “Try to sleep huh?” he suggested, and silently he hoped that Armand would before Marius came up to check on his boy and found him here.

Armand nodded weakly, curling up closer to Daniel to gain any sort of warmth. He placed his hand upon his chest. “I love you, Danny.” It was naught but a whisper. He very rarely said it in those simple words, probably twice in their whole history. But he did, and his gratitude needed to be expressed.

It may have gone swimmingly from here, and for a moment it seemed it might. Armand had drifted off to the sounds of their heartbeats, his own comparatively weak to Daniel’s, and he was in the lightest stages of sleep. Then he felt that telltale dryness within his throat, the pang in his stomach, the all-consuming need for blood. He snapped his eyes open, they were glowing with hunger, as a wolf or leopard when caught by a night vision camera in those nature documentaries that Marius adored.

He balled his hand into Daniel’s shirt again, this time possessively. “I’m hungry, Danny,” he said sweetly. His voice was innocent, hushed, despite the look in his eye, as if he expected Daniel to do something about it.

It was the sweetest little voice Daniel had ever heard, and he couldn’t help but grin wide at how vulnerable Armand let himself sound. He stroked his thumb over the hand holding his shirt and gave his brow a kiss. “Ok…well, how about I go find Fareed or Marius, ok? We aren’t supposed to be feeding but since you’re….well since you’re already sick it probably can’t hurt.”

He arched his back to slide out of bed, figuring it would be a simple matter, but Armand’s fist curled tighter.

“Don’t go…” Armand begged softly, shaking his head. He nestled further into Daniel, feeling that with his closeness, with his affection, he could beat this thing. He knew that he needed to be held. But he was not himself, as he pulled closer with a new burst of strength.

Another chuckle, another kiss, and Daniel pulled at Armand’s hand gently, his ever present rings as cold beneath Daniel’s touch as Armand’s skin. “Babe, I have to go get someone, ok?” he tried to reason, knowing Armand was exhausted and fighting he was half asleep here. “So you just lie here and try to rest, I’ll get Master and Fareed and….Armand c’mon I gotta get up.”

Armand grunted, mood souring as Daniel tried to escape again. He brought his second hand to his shirt and wrenched him closer on instinct, all rationality past him as his mouth settled over Daniel’s neck. He let his fangs gently graze it. All he knew now was blood, it was all he could think of. His body ached for it. How long had it been now? He couldn’t think. And he didn’t think when he bit down, some grotesque, feral noise escaping him as the blood hit his tongue.

Daniel had tensed when he felt his lover’s fangs trace over his skin, like the warning bite small animals give before sinking into their prey. And immediately he had the impulse to draw back but Armand was quicker and bit him fiercely.

This was not anything like sharing blood. This felt like being prey, this felt like taxi cabs and train cars and auburn haired angels outside hotel windows for hours on end. He tried to cry out Armand’s name but he found himself breathless as his maker claimed him, each quick heartbeat sending more blood to his waiting lips. Hands shaking, his push against Armand was ineffective, even with how sick Armand had been minutes before.

It was not working, this thing. Draught after draught he took, and still he felt nothing but thirst. It was as if he were nothing but a ghost, with all the worst parts of being alive. After some time he savagely pushed Daniel away, furious at the fact. He stood with a new found energy.

“It won’t work, it won’t work. Why won’t it work?” He repeated this over and over, as a mad prophet repeats a doctrine, trapped in some kind of trance. He bit at his own skin furiously, finding only the same thing in every spot he tore into. It felt right at first, and then it all turned to ash. He didn’t register what he’d done to Daniel until he caught sight of him on the bed, a weak and disheveled and blood stained thing. He gasped sharply, uncaring for the blood seeping from every inch of his skin as he rushed to him.

“I told you to leave! You gave me your word!” he spat, shaking him by the shoulders as the guilt made him forget the thirst.

Daniel’s head swam, Armand’s vicious and angry tone floating around him but not really sinking in. The pain in his neck was already subsiding as the wound closed but that did nothing for the way his body shook as he tried to push himself up. He just managed to end up on the floor, struggling to grab hold of the bed, the wall, anything. Armand never drained him like this before, never, and he felt his heart skip in his chest as Armand ranted about the room. He barely had the will to weigh his options, trying to make it to the door or trying to call out for help. Not even just for himself, but for Armand.

“You idiot! You stupid little thing!” Armand shot, perhaps directed at himself as well. He moved to him, combing the hair from his eyes. How sickly he looked, frail and weak. He hated the sight of it. How had he managed to do this, to drink from him so fatally? It had been what, one or two gulps? He couldn’t tell. But they wouldn’t get anywhere like this. Daniel, he needed to get better, and Armand needed to be locked away somewhere far more impenetrable than this.

“Drink from me, Daniel,” he ordered suddenly, tearing a gaping gash in his neck and pressing Daniel’s lips to it. “Drink and think about all the things we talked about, how I said I loved you. Did you hear that? I still do. Drink and then get far away from here.”

The scent of Armand’s blood did little to break through Daniel’s fog; he was intent still on leaving, on getting someone for Armand. He was sick, Armand was sick. Sick…right, Armand was sick, his blood was toxic then, wasn’t it?

Ignoring the wound and his maker’s coaxing hands, Daniel staggered himself back and all but drug himself up the wall. His vision spun and the dizziness brought a brief desire to be down again but that was a Bad Idea

“No….it’s….it’s ok, boss…Marius…I’ll get him for you…k?”

“No, no Danny. It’s not okay,” he murmured, pulling Daniel back and cradling him against him despite his superior size. The guilt and worry was enough now to keep him level headed enough to think, apparently. “I am your maker. I should protect you, keep you safe. I love you.” He combed his hands through Daniel’s hair, desperately racking his brain for a way to fix this.

Daniel could hear Armand’s heart, nearly as weak as his own in his ears but quicker, more erratic…and being so close to that blood was dimming his decision making skills. How many people did Armand ever hold so closely? Few, he was sure, and Daniel let that small pleasure soothe him…what was he arguing against again? He was….they needed help, right…but a taste would be fine wouldn’t it? Just a drink of his maker’s blood, which he hadn’t had in far too long.

“I’ll fix this, I promise you that,” Armand soothed, pressing kisses into Daniel’s hair, letting him rest and recuperate as much as possible for him. “Stay here for me, my love, and take some rest. I will go and find somebody for us.”

If Armand thought his fledgling was too ill or passive to just let that happen, oh, he was mistaken. Daniel saw Armand stand and turn towards the door and knew, right, that lock, the one meant to keep Armand in and everyone safe, was useless in his pocket. So with adrenaline more than anything he shot forward as Armand took a step and grabbed hold of his ankle. It wasn’t enough to trip him, but he stumbled and had to catch himself down to his knees.

“You’re not…not supposed to leave,” Daniel ground out, ignoring the look of scandal on Armand’s face. “You could make others sick!”

Armand reached down with a sigh and shook his head, hauling Daniel onto the bed with no small amount of effort on his part. He could have stayed then, collapsed beside him and let sleep take him, forget this whole thing. But as worrying as it was, he was the stronger of the two of them again.

“I’ll be quick…” he murmured wearily, stumbling towards his dresser to put some bottoms on. Who would he find? He couldn’t know. Everyone was busy. Someone who could give Daniel the blood he needed, perhaps. Then find himself some cage to lock himself away in.

“I’ll bring an elder to you…I’m…I’m friendly with one or two of them.” He could feel his guilt and anger and thirst giving way to exhaustion again. This was how it seemed to be. Anger, exhaustion, thirst. In that order. Over and over. And all the while he was frozen and dampened with sweat simultaneously, and he trembled.

All that Daniel could feel watching Armand try to leave him was a suffocating level of anxiety. That he was being left alone when he felt so poorly, that Armand was honestly no better off than he was, that others might be in danger. Guilt ate him at that thought, but Armand was…volatile at the best times, let alone almost literally rabid.

…and then there was fear of the absolute hell they were both going to face. That lock laid heavy in his pocket as much so as his heart in his chest…fine. Ok. If they fucking survived this he’d take the prince’s judgment, Marius’s whip, any of it. He fucked up and got them into this. Still the stupid clueless fledgling!

“Armand? Please don’t…” he all but slurred. “Stay…call someone.”

“We can’t just have anyone in the chateau happen upon this,” Armand murmured, voice cracking. He turned and slumped down the length of the dresser, legs outstretched. He sat like this for a moment, before drawing his knees to his chest as if protecting himself from the whole situation.

…Fuck this. Daniel drug himself up, shambling almost drunkenly over to his lover’s side and sitting with him. Arms around his waist he pulled him close and leaned them both to lie down on the rug. With Armand sick and Daniel drained, it was clear neither of them would even get down the stairs, so Daniel fumbled for his phone in his pocket.

“You pick, boss. Master, doctor, or whoever happens to be the first name I touch **.** **”**

Even in his dire state, there was some revelry to be had in Daniel’s arms wrapped around his waist. It put him in mind of the other night, of earlier even, when he’d confessed his love of being able to hold him so tightly. Of course now his grip was weak. He felt an enormous crash of guilt run through him then, for what had Daniel done but come to him in his time of need, hold him despite the risk, tell him he was beautiful even when he looked the way he did. And what had he done in return? Nothing but take and take, as he always did with Daniel. And not so much the physical, the material, no. For he lavished the wildest of gifts upon Daniel, wealth unimaginable. But he had taken from him emotionally again, mentally, betrayed his trust.

He lay as he thought of this all, wishing he knew a way to express it. He rested his head on Daniel’s chest. He tried not to give any mind to the fact that the copious bite marks upon his skin were barely healing. He didn’t even answer the question, simply plucked the phone from Daniel’s hand and placed it down. He just didn’t care anymore.

…Fine. Daniel would let it go. Neither of them were fucking dying (he hoped,) so maybe just…just a few more minutes holding him. Just a few minutes for the spinning to stop and to not feel like he was going to hurl. He didn’t know what the fuck to do. He wanted to reach out to Marius but the idea of the shame and worry etching the lines on his face deeper just killed him.

“First person you come to,” he murmured almost inaudibly after a while, voice small and lost as he thought.

“With you drained and me looking like the hounds of hell have mauled me to pieces, Marius would probably crush what little life we have left with one glare.” It was an attempt at humor, but it was hollow.

Not wanting to think about what their patriarch would do when he finally got a hold of them, Daniel flipped open his contacts, trying to think of who could be any help through this. He couldn’t leave Armand alone, couldn’t send him out alone, he knew Louis was sick…and in the back of his mind lurked the knowledge that he could be too now, and it would be his own damn fault.

Armand felt his breathing level, deepening as he lay his head upon Daniel’s chest. He could feel himself slipping into unconsciousness, but fought ferociously against it to stay awake for his fledgling.

“Tell me as soon as someone responds.”

Daniel’s vision was fogging again, reminding him of hotel room hangovers after binge drinking himself half to death. Just the thought had his stomach twisting, though he was sure that was all in his head still.

Thorne. Before he could even second guess it or wonder if that was a decent idea, he hit his name.

Thorne had been reluctantly trying to busy himself with the modern technology in his room. The TV still fascinated him after all these years. And now he had one of those computers that had somehow increased in quality as they decreased in size. That was always strange to him. In Thorne’s time, the size of something indicated strength and quality. How could such a little thing do so much more than its predecessors? Where was the space for it all? Well as shallowly as it had distracted him here and there, as he had the TV playing something while his laptop was playing another thing, simply because he could, it still could not quell his anxiety. He did not like being too far from Lestat at this time.

He was pulled from another pang of guilt by his little phone ringing. He saw Daniel’s name on its screen. Ah, the little train builder, friend of Marius. What could he want?

“Hello, friend.” He spoke cheerfully down the phone upon answering it, brows knotting in confusion.

Armand relaxed at the sound of Thorne’s voice. Fine. Someone who could be trusted at the very least. Someone who would not tell of this to the rest of the court. Content in the knowledge that Daniel had chosen well, he let sleep claim him finally.

Daniel winced internally; he had a…healthy respect for the old ones. Maybe it was being turned during a genocide that put the fear of bold blood in him.

“Thorne? It’s me. Uh. Daniel. Molloy? I’m Armand’s…” God he felt stupid. We’re his words slurring? He felt they were slurring. “Thorne…Armand’s sick. He’s like. Really sick….and I dunno, I might be too…please, I didn’t know who else to call.”

Thorne frowned deeply at this, a wave of concern crashing over him. A hundred questions went through his mind. How sick? How much worse than before? How was Daniel sick? Why did he sound so weak? He’d not spoken with Armand too much since their arrival at court, but he knew how important he was to Marius. And the same concern extended to Daniel. He pushed his thoughts aside to be strong for his friend.

“I’d been told he’d been locked away. What has happened, can you move? What can I do to help?” He stood and folded his laptop, knowing that he’d likely have to see this thing in person.

Daniel twisted a finger nervously into the fabric of his shirt collar, reminiscent of the days of curly corded phones, of coiling it around his fingers during difficult calls. “…I messed up. I’ll explain later,” was all he said, hoping the desperation in his voice could convince him.

“…I’ll be there soon,” Thorne assured him, intent to get the story later. He was out the door in moments.

Daniel sighed, dropping his phone to the floor when Thorne hung up. Exhausted and aching he pulled Armand close, practically on top of him, guilty over the pain that crossed his pale, clammy face. He didn’t want to hurt him, only hold him a little longer. He had no idea how long Armand and Louis were going to be locked up.

Thorne entered the room in haste, past the decorum of knocking to enter. From the tone of Daniel’s voice, it seemed he might not be able to answer anyway. He was immediately hit by the stench of blood and sickness, but mainly blood. It was not something that phased him, he’d seen so much of it in his mortal life. The sight wouldn’t have affected him either, had it not been of two people he cared for. It saddened and worried him, the sight of Armand unconscious atop his protective fledgling, pale arms much paler than usual and peppered in hideous bites. He was undoubtedly the sick one, and worse than before, with his whole body drenched with sweat, and his heart so weak, and his face the very picture of death such as he’d never seen in a vampire. But Daniel was also in a terrible way, and he could help Daniel.

“I am here,” he soothed, gingerly extracting Armand from Daniel and scooping him up cautiously. The iciness of his skin sent a shiver down Thorne’s spine. He looked at him from this angle, something he’d never had the opportunity to do. All of it felt so wrong. He placed him on the bed and brought the blanket over him, hoping it might do some good before making his way to Daniel. “It’s going to be alright now,” he soothed.

“All I need is blood,” Daniel said, his arms shaking as he tried to sit himself up. He knew that even well fed after the hunt he didn’t look as strong as someone like Thorne; his natural build often resembled that of an emaciated vampire and he didn’t want to imagine what he looked like half starved. “Seriously, I’ll be fine after a meal but Armand…he’s half out of his damn mind.”

As much of a running jab as it was that Armand was always a half-mad thing, he was usually among the sharpest and most fore-thinking of the court, and he hoped that Thorne understood what he meant. “He needs to be somewhere alone. But he’s starving and furious and-” Jesus Christ if the room would stay still that would be peachy.

Thorne nodded in understanding. There was never any question of it. Daniel needed blood and he would have some of his.

“Hush for a moment, stop worrying for him. Worry for yourself, now. You’ve done well, worry for yourself.” He spoke as softly as his naturally rough voice would allow. He would get answers later, but for now Daniel needed to drink. He pulled Daniel into his arms, before a thought occurred to him. “You’ve not drunk from him, my friend, have you?”

Daniel shook his head, then stopped quickly because it helped nothing. “No…but he drank from me. I know I shouldn’t have let him but he seemed so hungry…and he didn’t seem to know he was doing it,” he said. He knew it was best to be upfront here; he’d seen enough zombie movies to know what happens when you lie about being bit. Daniel wasn’t gonna be that bitch. But Thorne didn’t push him away in revulsion, so Daniel took that as permission to drink. It took an extra moment to pierce his skin, to press his fangs in right, but the first flood of it over his tongue was an intimate reward. Rich and savory and filling him with images of storm clouds and thunder as he drank. Only a mouthful, he promised himself, already on another.

Thorne laughed gently despite the severity of the situation at Daniel’s thoughts. None of this one mouthful nonsense. He would take as much as he needed, and then they would talk. _Take care of your friends first_ , that’s something he’d learned from Marius all those years ago, when he’d done the very same for him. He let himself reflect on these things as Daniel took from him, as well as the ever present pleasure of having another drink from you. He held him gently, knowing that Daniel was seeing so much of his mortal life now and enjoying it, that he might have that bond with someone.

Marius, and Armand. Daniel hadn’t taken blood from another vampire before, only from his own line. He’d spent so long, ah, checked out that he’d rarely had the option, but it was both a familiar and altogether new pleasure, walking that line between eros and agape that Daniel was still learning to take.

Almost immediately he felt the weight in his limbs lessening, his heart picking up and strengthening, and he saw the color returning to his hands. He was young enough still to have a peach flush to himself most of the time, pale but not yet terrifyingly so, and its return was a comforting sign.

With more reluctance than he’d expected, he sealed the wound he’d made, rested his forehead on Thorne’s shoulder a moment in thanks, and spoke with a renewed strength to his voice. “I’ll have to tell Lestat and Marius eventually,” he confessed, and reached into his pocket to drop the padlock onto the floor, the thunk barely softened by the rug. “I couldn’t keep away.”

Thorne nodded and patted his shoulder, careful not to be too firm with it. Even renewed with blood, Daniel seemed such a scrawny thing. “Of course, and we will. But won’t you tell me everything that happened? I’ve only managed to piece it together tenuously. And any new information on this sickness will be welcome to Fareed.”

Still feeling rather hesitant, Daniel gave him as much info as he needed, weighing the guard’s reactions the whole way. He didn’t want to make more trouble than Armand could make for himself, and with everyone so high strung…it wore on them all. It wore on Daniel, still struggling to gain back the confidence and autonomy he’d once had, that he could still display so readily around his own blood, and Louis at times…he knew Louis was just as sick as Armand, he could feel his exhaustion in a way he couldn’t from Armand, but he wasn’t ready to process another trauma right now.

He stood as he spoke, his strength returning steadily, and made his way to hover by Armand’s bed as he finished up. “—And he’s able to break through for a few minutes at a time but not for long…even weak as he is right now, you’ve seen what he can do. I don’t want him setting anyone on fire.”

Thorne stood and speedily crossed the room to Daniel, not wanting him to be so near to Armand again without protection. He slid an arm around his shoulders in an affectionate way, looking upon Armand’s sleeping form as he processed the information he’d been given. It was hard to believe that such a frail looking thing could have the strength to take so greedily from someone. He stirred a little, must have been sleeping restlessly. It would not last long, and then who knew what would happen.

“I do not judge you for any of this, my friend. He is a wiley thing, something like one of our old gods, Loki. If he is not in the right mind, his usual loyalties will lie nowhere. And he will turn those wiles to you. Do you want me to stay for a while?”

Daniel had to smirk at this. Marius had spent hour after hour telling him stories when he looked after him, whether he knew if Daniel could always hear or not…he usually could. He was usually lucid enough to be spoken to and understand in a simple way at least. And mythology was a favorite of Mars’. Roman of course, and its Greek counterparts, Canaanite and Germanic and, yes, Norse. So many sunrises were spent falling asleep to stories of Odin and Freyja as often as Zeus or Hera…it wasn’t till years later with a paperback in his hand that he realized why he never told the story of Eros and Psyche. That story was for different ears.

But Loki, yes, his redheaded charmer fit the trope well.

“…I could handle him, you know. If I needed to. He’s far stronger than me in mind but only slightly more in body.”

“You find enjoyment in that notion.” Thorne said gently, but said no more. It was not his place to postulate such things. “You are much like a Norseman, in spirit. Headfirst into battle, and if you die then so be it. But I’m not sure our Roman friend would appreciate you taking the risk. I’ll stay, just in case our Little Loki invokes the wrath of Hel.”

Armand caught the end of this as he awoke again, phasing in and out of consciousness. He looked up at Thorne, glad to see him here, and to Daniel, even more glad to see him on his feet and well. Or better, at least. “You’d better be careful that I don’t,” he muttered, struggling to think for the pounding of his head.

Daniel eased down to Armand’s side, not wanting to admit that he was a little frightened in doing so. Nervous and a bit antsy, he smoothed his hand over Armand’s chest, pulling his covers up a little higher as he shook beneath him.

“I know as well as anyone what a hellion you are,” he said gently, watching as another shudder followed the first. “…Thorne’s here. He said he’ll help look after you…us,” he admitted with just…a twinge of wounded pride.

“Thorne…come and lay with me, my lovely. Let me feel that strong heartbeat of yours, let me run my fingers through your hair…” Armand hummed, his voice as sweet as honey as he looked up at Thorne with almost doll-like eyes.

Thorne thought for a moment that anyone to refuse Armand would have to be blind and deaf, but all he needed himself was a little bit of awareness. He shook his head and smiled fondly. Armand was a devil with an angel’s face at this moment, despite how ill he looked, a serpent with a pretty voice.

“No, little one. I’ll not be taking that risk. I’ll be here alright, with your fledgling as you need us.”

Armand frowned, offended at the refusal. “Danny, tell him to lay with us.”

Upon seeing the flash of rage alight Armand’s brown eyes, Daniel shushed him almost silently and kept a hovering hand near his chest, sure that in Armand’s current state he could take him. As though Thorne needed protecting.

“Boss, not everyone has to be your plushie you know,” he said lightly, keeping his tone teasing but in the gentlest way. “When you’re well you can try to get with that”.

 _Pleasedontkillme_ he thought to himself.

“Well then what is the point of you being here?” Armand shot bitterly up at Thorne, hand clenching the bedsheet as his whole body shook with rage.

“To look after us, but what, ignore me, act as a mindless little prison guard as I lay here and rot?!” Thorne quirked a brow at this, impressed at how quickly this thing could change a person’s mind. He was glad that there were only two cases. He shook his head, firmly pulling Daniel back from him and ignoring him.

“We’ll guard him from outside, put the padlock back. And you, you little beast,” Thorne began, turning to Armand. “I know you’re strong enough to fight past your rage and let us do that, hmm?”

After a long moment of searching Thorne’s eyes, Armand felt enough self control return to nod, enough willpower to keep himself still on the bed for the minute it would take them to get out.

Daniel balked a little as Thorne pulled him close and dug his heels into the rug.

“I want to stay with him,” he argued simply. “I won’t let him get to me again, now that I know what to look for. And he’s sick. You shouldn’t leave someone alone when they’re sick.”

Thorne shook his head, bending and retrieving the padlock whilst keeping his eyes fixed upon Armand.

“No, it is best for the both of you for us to leave. We’ll be by the door for now, until I think of something else. My mind is made up. Come along.” Thorne gestured for him to follow, knowing that this was the rational thing to do. There was no question in his mind that Daniel might reject it.

Armand looked to Daniel with as much encouragement as he could muster. “Go. We’ll see each other when I’m past this.”

Daniel wasn’t compelled to do as his maker said, theirs’ was not such a relationship, but between Armand’s insistence and, admittedly, some of his own fear, he decided…yeah. Ok. But he’d risk a quick kiss first at least, to his cheek.

Armand took this opportunity to turn and catch Daniel’s lips, in a long and lasting kiss. It was gentle, but a promise that he still loved him despite what he’d put him through. That he’d still love him even when he went and left him in darkness again. He pulled back then, not wanting to risk too much intimacy. “Go…”

Daniel felt a burn in his throat but set himself against it, ruffling Armand’s tangled and matted hair once before turning to leave. The sound of the door closing, of Thorne setting the lock back into place, it felt heavy and isolating, as though he were the one closed inside.

He’d just gone so long without Armand already …

Thorne pulled Daniel into his arms and held him close, hoping to offer him some well-deserved comfort. “I’m proud of you, warrior. I know how hard that was for you.”

Daniel let himself be held for a moment; it reminded him of the affection Marius showed him so freely during his madness, which he was shy to seek out now that he was well. Giving Thorne a quick but awkward embrace back, he slid away and leaned heavy against the wall as he eased to the floor. Thorne stood beside him, at ease with this role, with keeping watch, but this stillness was not common to Daniel. He wanted to make conversation, but wasn’t even sure where to start.

“Why don’t you tell me how you met one another?” Thorne read Daniel’s thoughts, and wanted to help. He knew that the way Daniel seemed inclined to worry that it might be impossible to get his mind from Armand at all. “I’ve not read those sagas that you all put out. It makes for too much clouding of judgment.”

“I never put out my own story,” Daniel said softly, looking up at the high walls of this castle corridor, still wondering what his 20 year old self would say to hearing about how his life went. “Rather like you I guess, someone else put your words to paper. I only ever wrote myself as Boy in my book. It was Lestat and Marius who wrote about me, neither at my best…you remember, I’m sure. I wasn’t really well when we first met. Wasn’t too well when I first met Armand either.”

“No, I remember. You did not acknowledge me often, only to complain that Marius did not like your little model houses.” Thorne raised a brow. He knew Daniel hadn’t been well, of course. Nobody in their right mind would behave like that. And he remembered Marius’s story about the blood drinker who collected seashells, and he was glad that Daniel had come back to them. “Tell me more.”

“Hm. How does anyone get mixed up with the devil?” he asked the ceiling more than Thorne, and he could hear Armand’s gentle, shallow breathing through the wall behind him. He hoped desperately he would sleep. “I wanted Lestat, you know. Louis wouldn’t change me but I had decided then and there what I wanted and what I wanted was the blood. And who better but glittering, evocative Lestat? But it was Armand who found me, you know, and I didn’t know shit about Armand but what Louis told me. I didn’t know he was once Amadeo and Andrei before that. Didn’t know anything of where he came from except that he was a crazy thing from a cult. And this motherfucker tells me I’m his new favorite toy and starts chasing me around the goddamned world! They have a name for that you know, and it’s called _stalking_! I was being stalked by a kid who looked barely old enough to go to prom!”

Thorne smiled at this, and listened, listened with his whole heart. It seemed as though Daniel had needed to say these things. And as good natured as Thorne was, nothing surprised him amongst his kind. He’d long since known that Armand’s beauty was only matched by his insanity, that he had done some cruel and unhinged and insensitive things.

“When did you realize you were in love with him? Because you are, are you not?” he asked frankly, wondering how someone might find the time to fall in love with someone pursuing them so aggressively.

“…yeah,” Daniel said softly but without hesitation. “When….Christ if I know when. About 75-84, thereabouts, that’s when he had me. And soon he wasn’t outside my windows but in my rooms, and he was digging through my clothes and my books and playing on my typewriter. He left me notes all over, notes in fucking Latin. Latin! Like I fucking knew Latin?! …I dunno. Maybe you just learn to get used to something, and then it’s gone and you realize you miss it, and you try to treasure it when it comes back.” He looked up at Thorne now, raising one light brow behind glasses he hadn’t needed in years.

“I’ll tell you this though. It’s messed up and I know it. He strung me along with blood and money and whiskey and women and somehow I fell into him along the way. That’s what our bloodline does. We fuck each other over but can’t live without each other.”

“Not love then…an addiction. One you wish you were rid of.” Thorne nodded with understanding. He knew of this sort of thing, there’d been stories of witches who could do it. Of wild and beautiful women, succubi. So Armand was something like an incubus then, only not. But he had some good in him, Thorne thought. He folded his arms pensively.

“No!” Daniel fought immediately, twisting his neck to glare as hard as he could at Thorne. “It’s not like that. I mean… not anymore. I love him, I love Armand like he loves Marius…” He trailed off, his hesitancy creeping in. Marius. He’d learned so little about Marius from his years with Armand, only to know he was loved and adored and missed dreadfully, and though he knew so much more now it cleared up precious little. Perhaps Thorne thought the same of those two as for Daniel and Armand; he knew well enough that the coven looked to Marius with deepest respect but also a bit of a smirk when it came to his poor track record with his lovers.

“I know we’re all a mess,” Daniel sighed, trying to be less defensive, “but I do love him.”

Thorne shook his head at the thought. “I would never think such things of Marius. And all of us to some extent are…ah… ‘messes,’ as you put it. Glorious messes. And as for me, well it’s been so long since I had anybody in that way or felt that way of someone that I have to admire it.”

“You’re a good looking man Thorne, and smart as hell. You could get any man or woman in this court if you wanted them,” Daniel pointed out, himself not blind to Thorne’s impressive arms and strong jaw and plentiful red hair. “We’re all messes meaning we’re all none of us in much place to judge another’s shortcomings, whatever yours are. You’re smart to not get too involved in the sagas you know. Don’t want Lestat digging up your life story,” he chuckled. As though he hadn’t been the one who started it all.

“Ah, we’re all too beautiful, that’s my problem. I’d want you all!” Thorne smiled, keeping the answer vague enough to not truly have to answer with anything at all. “I’ve told Lestat my life story, and he’s threatened to write it down. I don’t mind that, only I want to know people’s stories straight from them, through the spoken word, as it was for me when I was a man.”

Daniel had come to learn a lot since he met Armand, but his few years really weren’t nearly enough to be proficient at talking with these elders. Their lives spanned thousands of years and hundreds of cultures; did he know how Vikings told stories? Fuck no. He knew how the Romans did it now and he knew of the Renaissance when before he couldn’t even spell the word, but there was so much left.

“I was a journalist, before all this, ya know that? A wannabe reporter. Then I meet Louis and think this guy will be an entertaining piece if nothing else and it fucks around my whole life…you have that, Thorne? That moment you know if you’d made a different choice, just one, you’d have never been turned?”

Thorne shrugged. “I had a similar conversation with Marius not so long ago. I do not often dwell on the past or future in that way, only what is here and what we are now. But I will tell you this,”

He paused for thought, as if some shadow of a past pain had come visiting after so long. “I loved my maker with all my heart. But when I was first turned, I lamented it fiercely in many ways. My fate was to die a warrior’s death and to reach Valhalla, and that had been taken from me. So in some ways, I know what it means to have your life path changed with jarring suddenness.”

Daniel let his words settle, nodding. “I didn’t believe in gods. I missed nothing being turned. But I was born in 55; I’d probably still be alive if I hadn’t been turned. Well,” he added with a laugh, looking over his shoulder at the door. “If I hadn’t met Armand I mean. I was dying, I’m sure, when he turned me. Same as he was dying when Mars made him. But without that I’d just be getting my first issues of AARP. Have some grandkids maybe. Be all gray haired and shit. Did you do that? You’re young bodied. Was it weird when you’d been turned long enough to be thinking about death?”

“I had a brother. It was hard to watch him from a distance, grow old and die, watch my nephews and niece grow old and die…the rest of my family…I didn’t truly look at myself and when I might have died, I’ve felt something other since I became a vampire, something that was never destined to die at all. After my initial reaction, as I said. But that was the most difficult thing,” he mused, happy to share these words with Daniel. It seemed now he’d begun to truly talk with him, Daniel had an unceasing stream of questions and things to say. Thorne lowered himself to the floor to sit beside him, to talk to him on level, though he was still half a head taller.

With how many times Marius had been on the floor with him, Daniel had the immediate and compulsive reaction to either hiss him away or lay his head on his shoulders. But social propriety and a sense of that just being weird kept the compulsion at bay.

Behind him, through the door, his maker’s breathing was even and slow and his heart sounded weak. He knew, for them, this was little danger but the implications hurt him, and he pressed his hands to the wood.

“This is bullshit,” he told his companion bitterly. “First I get sired the night before a genocide. Lose my damned wits for nearly twenty years. Come out of it to our kind being burned alive, again, move back home and we’re dying of fucking rabies!”

And he was sure he looked like he was losing his mind again, and he felt a pang of pity for Thorne, surely only used to dealing with Lestat’s brand of crazy.

“Ah, we’re not dying my little friend,” Thorne began gently, lifting his arm in invitation if Daniel wished to slide under it. “There are only two of us afflicted, and you know they won’t die. He is strong, stronger than your worry gives him credit for. And Lestat will not let Louis die.” It was the Viking way, to speak with such utter surety about all things.

Daniel needed that. He wanted to pretend he didn’t but he did. He was still searching for his balance in this castle, in this court, and having at least one more old one who didn’t seem him as a simpleton or just a plaything to keep Armand from burning things was nice. It was a balm for a worried soul, even as he couldn’t tear himself from the door.

“…We do need to let the others know. That Armand had a turn,” he said finally, pressing his forehead to the door. “Fareed needs to know, Marius deserves to know…I should check on Louis too, but…I think I would rather live in this hallway a while.”


	7. The Cure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good news finally comes to the chateau! So why does everything still feel like heartbreak?

Doing clerical work at a time like this seemed so utterly inane to Lestat that he felt tempted to set his princely office room on fire. But documents required his signature and the household still needed to be run, the village provided for. He was doing the barest minimum possible and still felt overwhelmed.

Pushing away from his computer, he put his elbows on the desk, burying his face in his hands. He wanted more than anything to go out and hunt, but it was impossible. He could not risk infection.

Gregory knocked politely at the prince’s office door. He loosened the tie at his throat and unbuttoned his collar. He’d just finished a video conference call with some mortal business colleagues in Japan. But now he had to get back to the vampire side of his world and talk to Lestat about some court business.

The subtle thrum of Gregory’s presence was unmistakable, and Lestat did not need to ask who knocked. Shoving his hands back through his hair to try to compose himself, he straightened in his expensive leather desk chair. “Come in, my friend.”

Gregory entered. He smiled brightly at Lestat, his heart always lifted by the sight of him. “I have arrived in your office,” he announced with a laugh, and went to take a seat in one of the chairs across from Lestat’s desk. “Oh… is this a new desk?” He touched the wood and admired it.

The sight of Gregory’s smile managed to lift Lestat’s spirit somewhat, and he tried to force the tension out of his shoulders. “New to us,” he answered, appreciative that Gregory had noticed. “An antique, though, of course.” With a weary sigh, Lestat leaned back in his chair and put his boots up on the corner of the desk, crossing his ankles. “It is good to see you.”

“And it is good to see you. It feels like it has been a long time.” Gregory pulled his phone from his pocket, as it was vibrating. He tapped the ignore button. “Elon Musk,” he muttered. “That guy.” He shook his head and sent a quick text to him that he was busy.

Lestat made a face. “I’ve come this close to killing him” He lifted his fingers an inch apart. “So many times. Maybe I will soon.” But California was so far away now. He’d get around to it eventually. “How are all your loved ones?” he asked with serious concern. “Have they been able to find untainted victims during this time?”

Gregory nodded, crossing one leg over the other and running a hand over his bearded face. He’d trimmed it short lately, but didn’t shave it entirely. “All those close to me are safe and accounted for and keeping ahead of this thing.” He examined the prince from across the desk. He looked tired, but otherwise healthy. “And you? Is Louis improved?”

Lestat sighed, the weariness of ages feeling as if it were settling on him. “Rest seems to help. But it’s still a risk for him to hunt outside the chateau. And I haven’t gone out myself in…” He glanced at the calendar. “Over two weeks now.” While Louis was gone on his extended vacation, Lestat had spent many of his nights hunting just to keep himself distracted whether he needed the blood or not. He’d still desperately wanted to kill. But once Louis came back, he hadn’t left the chateau once.

Gregory tilted his head slightly and examined Lestat more closely. “Are you keeping up your strength? Or is it all work and no play these days? That’s unhealthy, you know. Mortals these days say you need to be your authentic self to be happy.” Gregory smirked.

Lestat laughed softly. “I don’t think I know how to be any other way!” He shrugged, too worn down to keep up his mirth for long. “But this is no time for being happy. I no longer need the blood... any more than you do. And yet...that just makes me want it all the more.” His eyes drifted to the window and the faint stars beyond the dark glass. “It’s gotten so that killing is almost all I can think about anymore.”

Gregory frowned, thinking about the prince’s words. It had been so long since he’d been such a young blood drinker. The need the kill was still with him too, but not nearly as pronounced as it was in the young. “I understand,” he said with a serious tone. “What is it that you most miss about the kill? The struggle of the victim? The last moments before death? Or is it just the blood? I can provide the latter.”

Lestat’s elbow slid off the arm of his chair where he’d been propping his chin in his hand, and he only barely caught himself, straightening to put his feet on the floor before he fell out of his chair. Gregory might as well have been describing the most erotic of acts, and heat rose to Lestat’s face as he simply imagined having a victim in such a way. “All of it,” he breathed, staring at him with a hazy mixture of amazement and frustration.

Gregory laughed. It hadn’t been his intention to bring about this reaction, but now that he had… “You know what I love about the kill? Hunting. I think it’s something that carries over from mortal life, you know? Of course you do, you were the hunter too. Back when we had to capture our food. Mortals don’t have to do that anymore. They don’t have to find the animal, track it, be stealthy, kill it, skin it…” He trailed off, watching the prince’s rapt attention on him. He stood and went around the desk, leaning against it a bit, arms open in invitation. “Come here, sir. Take what you want.”

A slow smile spread over Lestat’s face as Gregory’s words painted the most delectable picture for him, making him practically shiver with the desire for it to be a reality. If he could go out to hunt now, Lestat might kill four or five hot delicious mortals in his hunger for their lives before he was satisfied. Gregory’s blood would be nothing like that fantasy... but it would provide a different one altogether. And Lestat wanted it, wanted it as he always did with those he loved. He stood and slid his arms around Gregory, looking into his eyes. “What I want?” he asked with a wry smirk.

Gregory leaned back. Teasing, but also a bit irritated. “What? You want the hunt? I can’t give you that. I’m six-thousand years older. I can’t play weak and terrified. You might be able to chase down one of the younger ones out in the main hall though.”

Lestat laughed, the suggestion was so ridiculous. To play at hunting another vampire… It wouldn’t mean the same thing at all. Although Lestat had done something like that with Rhoshamandes…but there’d been no joy in that.

He shook his head and his hands pressed Gregory affectionately. “You are too good to me, my friend. I don’t know why you don’t smite me where I stand.” Lestat could drink from him now… Gregory had offered, and he wanted to do it desperately for nothing else than the fact that it was Gregory. But something about it didn’t feel right, so Lestat released him and turned to the window to attempt to withstand the temptation. He leaned against it, looking out at the wilderness surrounding the castle. “I’ve cancelled everything… Did I tell you that? Every court event we had planned, ever ball. All of it. The calendar is cleared. It will stay that way… I don’t know for how long.”

Gregory sighed heavily, crossing his arms on his chest. He could feel the hunger in Lestat, yet he chose not to quench it. These youngsters were so odd in their need for self-flagellation. In his younger years, Gregory and his brothers in the blood never did this denial of needs thing the vampires did in these times. He blamed the rise of the Christian God, for that seemed to be when it all started.

Very well. He returned to his chair and picked up his phone to send a quick email to his mortal assistant at his company headquarters, asking her to please remember to contact Bill Gates about his foundation’s participation in the latest research project Collingsworth had launched. Lestat was talking about his calendar and entertainments being cancelled. It seemed a sad thing for him. Gregory frowned. “Why did you cancel it all? Most vampires here are perfectly well.”

Lestat felt something cold and hard clench deep in the center of his stomach. He adjusted his focus to look at Gregory’s reflection in the window instead of through it. He simply studied him for a long moment, trying to think of how to answer…but it wasn’t clear even to himself why he’d done it. He opened his mouth to respond in some pithy, dismissive way, to say something about respectfulness and honoring the trauma so many were going through, but he let the words die on his tongue. They wouldn’t have been true anyway. Instead, he just shook his head silently and looked through the glass again, his eyes tracing over the trails on the mountain. He wanted to be out there now, to feel the cold biting him, hear the crunch of the gravel under his feet. Or maybe he wanted to be somewhere else entirely…

Gregory put his phone down and studied the prince again. What was so wrong with him lately? He was not his usual sunny self these past months, and it was more than the virus that had brought this about. But Gregory could not read in him what it really was about. He stood and went to him at the window, turning him by the shoulders. “Stop being this martyr, Lestat. Drink from me. Be at peace for a little while at least.” He tilted his head, offering again, sliding his hands down around Lestat’s waist and pulling his strong young body close. He kissed Lestat’s temple. “I love you like my own, you know.”

A martyr? Him? Lestat could laugh. He tried, but it came out a dry, brittle sound. Once more, he put his arms around Gregory, savoring the strength he could feel in every part of him where their bodies touched. He didn’t think he would find peace in the blood, but he would find ecstasy, and he wanted that.

“I know,” he said softly, though there was a touch of sorrowfulness to it, an edge of guilt. Before he could let himself think about that at all, he dipped his face to Gregory’s throat and sank in his fangs to release the ancient blood. As he latched on to drink, it shot into his brain like a jolt of perfect lightning. His arms around Gregory clamped tight, and he turned to press Gregory’s back against the window.

Gregory drew a sharp breath. This part never got old. Feeling another draw the strength from him and pulling his heart into that beating dance. He fed Lestat visions of the ancient world as he’d known it when a boy. The dry hot sun baking the desert. The waters of the great river sliding through the sands. The blue, blue skies. And since this was not necessarily a session to feed Lestat because he was in need of blood, but rather comfort and strength, Gregory turned his head, kissed along Lestat’s exposed throat, then drove his own fangs in, pulling hard at the blood, sliding his hands up Lestat’s back, completing the circle between them.

Against all expectations, the thick, rich blood so full of light did awash Lestat with a sense of peace as he sank into the images from Gregory’s mind. He barely felt the fangs enter his own neck until the tug on his heart began, and then he moaned, sinking his body against Gregory’s so heavily the glass behind him might have broken if it weren’t reinforced like all the castle’s windows now were. From his own mind came a sense of frustration, the image of his hand on a globe, spinning it absently but stopping when New Zealand rose to the front. And then the rush of icy wind, the many mingled memories of the combination of pain and exhilaration that came with the cloud gift. Lestat thought nothing of these things, far too easily indulging in the loveliness of Gregory’s mind and blood. He was a fool to have not done this the first time it was offered.

Gregory withdrew his fangs. He allowed Lestat to take several more swallows of his blood, then also pulled him away gently. He held Lestat’s head in his hands, looking closely at the half-lidded eyes, letting him recover from the passion. “What’s in New Zealand?” he asked abruptly, hoping to get a real answer out of him before his usual dismissive mood took over again.

It took a moment for his head to stop spinning, but Lestat felt better than he had in weeks. “I don’t know!” he answered breathlessly, honestly, but as if that were a good thing. In all his travels, it was a place Lestat had never been. It occurred to him why Gregory was asking, knowing he must have seen the globe, the magnificent stone thing embedded with so many colors, the way he’d spun it to the exact opposite side of home. The glass of the window felt icy against the back of his hands pinned between it and Gregory’s back. Lestat smiled at him dreamily. “Surely you’ve been there.”

“Of course I have. It’s a very beautiful place. Do you want to go there? Do you know anyone there?” In his pocket, his phone vibrated between them, but he ignored it.

“No,” Lestat said softly, but automatically, though it was unclear which of the questions he was answering. As the electrifying blood began to settle into a simmer within him, he shifted his weight off Gregory, releasing him from the window. “It’s too far from here…” Lifting a hand, he brushed some hair back from his eyes. “The furthest possible place from here, in fact.”

“Hmm.” Gregory nodded a bit. It seemed clear enough now. Lestat wanted a vacation but was refusing to take it. He leaned in and kissed the Prince’s soft gold hair. “I love you,” he whispered. But before he could say more, a young servant knocked on the office door to deliver a new memo from Fareed.

——————————————

Fareed stood in the council chamber. He had sent out a memo this evening with an update. This time, he was confident enough with the outcome of his trials to move from rats to vampires.

This time, Lestat made quite sure to actually read the memo before going to the meeting. The chamber felt empty without Louis or Armand there, their unused chairs mocking like gaping holes in his heart.

David arrived shortly after him. He’d actually received the memo, and was meaning to thank Fareed for remembering him. He chose a seat to the right of Lestat, as he wanted to be close to him, still shaken from having seen how far Louis had fallen prey to this virus. Lestat reached under the table, putting a comforting hand on David’s knee until things got underway, and then Fareed has his full attention.

Fareed waited for a few more people to trickle in, then speaking. “I called this meeting to share some good news,” he prompted, unable to hide his own exhaustion as he spoke. “I have completed a trial that could cure this disease. But...”

Those words _good news_ seemed to light up the entire room, straight through the roof of the north tower. “But what?” Lestat asked excitedly. “Out with it!”

He was already expecting some scientific nonsense that wouldn’t mean much of anything, much like all the jargon Fareed had thrown at them in the first meeting before finally getting down to it. It was time to skip straight to the point.

Fareed had made this thing, now he would unmake it. _But_ nothing.

——————————————

And despite all the doctor’s trepidation…he _did_.

Just like that, the nightmare was over. Within a week, Fareed, in all his brilliance perfected the solution, administered the cure, and all those who had fallen ill began to recover.

Although 90% of Lestat’s focus had been on Louis, even when Louis was avoiding him (which had become often again since his recovery), it was still Lestat’s duty to tend to his other subjects. But even if it hadn’t been, Lestat would want to see how Armand fared.

As soon as he had a free moment for it, Lestat let himself into Armand’s apartment without knocking, as had become his habit. Armand could hear him coming from the other side of the house if he tried, so there was no point in pretense or formality. Armand lay in his bed, and when Lestat beheld his pathetic but improved state, he smiled at him sympathetically. “I’m glad to see you this way.”

Armand turned his gaze to Lestat, arguably slower than he usually would have, almost with a mortal’s speed. But he smiled ever so slightly. Tired as he was, he had no head for anything but gratitude for Lestat’s presence.

“That’s a pitiful sentiment, out of context.” He smirked weakly, moving over and patting the space next to him. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” And it was a pleasure even though he’d been hoping the visitor he’d heard approaching would be Marius. He had not seen his maker once since the night he first fell ill.

Lestat glanced around the room as he crossed it, taking note of everything out of place or otherwise a sign of Armand’s convalescence. “I’ve been neglectful,” he said apologetically, pausing as if he wouldn’t take the seat on the bed Armand indicated, but then after a moment, he settled into the spot. “I’m sorry to have left you alone all this week.”

“Ah, I am old enough and...ugly enough? As the mortals say,” Armand jested. Lestat laughed softly, more because he seemed to need it than because it was actually amusing.

Armand flicked through the channels on his television before settling on something and bringing his arms around himself. The damnable cold, it still persisted. “With Louis ill as well, I hardly expected to see you at all. Not that I was thinking of much but thirst and sleep and biting everybody’s heads off,” he muttered, so grateful to be in control of himself again.

Lestat nodded solemnly. It was the simple truth. He knew he should pay equal attention to everyone afflicted, but how could he even think of anyone else when he’d been so fearful for Louis? “He is much more himself as well. He…well, yes. Himself.” That was the only way to put it. Mostly healthy again and back to avoiding Lestat. He eyed the television for a moment without interest. “You’ll tell me if there’s anything I can do for you?”

Armand smiled knowingly. “I am glad to hear it. Of all of us, he deserved to suffer the least. But is this question a signal that you wish to leave so soon?” he asked quietly.

“Of course not.” Lestat reached over and clasped the back of Armand’s hand reassuringly. Feeling how cold it was, though, made him frown. Not that he was much warmer himself. “None of you deserved this. None of any of us.” For it wasn’t only the ill who suffered…all their hearts were linked. Seeing David’s worry over Louis was just as hard for Lestat as seeing Louis’s suffering itself.

Armand couldn’t stop himself and turned his hand over and clasp Lestat’s. This was a rare moment of intimacy, and he felt so in need of it in his current state. “Perhaps not. Though Fareed did well in mitigating the whole thing. There were times, in the heat of the rage, when I thought I might go and kill him.” He spoke openly, unwilling to hide his thoughts. “But he was not entirely to blame.”

Lestat frowned, though he wasn’t seriously concerned. “I never would have forgiven you, you know.” His hand tightened just faintly around Armand’s. “Or worse, if he’d defended himself and destroyed you instead. I’d hate you forever for that.”

“I’d be dead, you fool. Unless you were petty enough to not spread the ashes.” Armand spoke with a twinge of amusement, pulling the duvet up around his knees. “But how are you? I don’t ask often enough. But being on death’s—or complete insanity’s—door helps to put things into perspective. You must be exhausted.”

Lestat picked a loose feather from the duvet and spun is absently between his fingers. People asked him how he was all the time, but they never really wanted to know the truth. All they wanted were reassurances that everything was well and Lestat would keep their great ship on course through the smooth waters of their future. But the way people kept asking him, sometimes it seemed like they were just waiting for him to crack, waiting for some proof that this enterprise of theirs would fail and crumble. But Lestat didn’t have it in him to do anything badly. At least, he never had before...

“I’m worried about Louis,” he answered finally, which was part of the truth.

Ah, yes, there it was. Probably half the reason for this visit at all. Still, Armand would entertain it for now. He’d nothing better to do, and he did feel concern, love even for both of them. “What is it, what is your concern?” he murmured tenderly, squeezing Lestat’s hand gently. “Will you lay with me? Or would you rather be free of me all together as you talk?” He hoped that Lestat might take up the offer. To be close to anyone now, particularly him. That would be heaven.

Lestat tilted his head to look down at Armand beside him, considering him thoughtfully. He wasn’t sure he wanted to talk about anything at all. But perhaps if anyone could understand his worries, Armand might. He and Armand had shared Louis for so long, and surely Armand had insight to him that Lestat would never be capable of…

But his own jealous inclinations wanted to keep those worries wrapped up in his chest, something that was his alone about Louis which Armand could not touch. Lestat pulled away from him, but just enough to slip off his boots, and then he pulled Armand into his arms to settle in with him, as if he could offer any warmth to Armand’s chilled frame. “You need more blankets,” he said, stalling.

Armand didn’t care that Lestat didn’t feel any warmer physically, just the intimacy distracted him enough to feel less cold. He pulled the duvet around them and relaxed, having no intentions of allowing Lestat to beat around the bush. “You’re stalling.” He spoke rather matter-of-factly for one who felt so vulnerable. “You can tell me some things you know.”

Lestat laughed somewhat hollowly and tilted his cheek against the top of Armand’s head. He didn’t say anything else at all for a long moment, as if he just wanted to lie there and watch the nonsense on television with him. Eventually, his churning thoughts led him to ask a question he thought Armand might actually have a useful answer for. “In New York…did he ever go off for a time? Disappear, travel on his own? Roam like he used to do. Or did he always stay home with you?”

Armand thought on this for a moment, wishing to give Lestat the answer he desired, before shaking his head. “He never roamed, but…there were periods when he would do nothing but feed and read. Hole himself up in his room with his books. He was often very absent from me, if not in a physical sense.” It didn’t hurt too much anymore. He adored Louis’s company of course, but Armand had had Benji, and on occasion Sybelle and even Antoine toward the end, when he would look up from his beloved instruments.

Lestat frowned. He was afraid that’s what Armand would say. Something had changed for Louis… Since the whole nightmare with Rhoshamandes. Something about the way Louis felt about being at court, or being with Lestat, or both since they might as well be the same thing. And his recent trip away hadn’t seemed to help at all. Lestat had been able to put all this out of his mind while Louis was ill, but now that he was better, that deep rooted fear of losing him one way or another hadn’t lifted in the slightest. “Have you spoken to him?” he asked rather reluctantly. “Since he came back from his trip…before you fell ill, I mean.”

Again, Armand shook his head. “No, I’d not had the chance.” He was unsure of what else to say. He was tired himself, and found it far too much effort to focus upon anything but the man holding him and the soothing din of the TV.

Lestat sighed, though in a way he was relieved. If Armand had had the chance to speak to Louis, Lestat would have wanted to ask Armand what was going through Louis’s mind, though he knew it would have been wrong to do so. Now, he didn’t have the choice, so in a way it was better, though he still desperately wished he knew. The more time passed, the more he felt convinced Louis was at the crux of some great decision, and it made Lestat extremely anxious, though he tried to bury it.

“What is it that plagues you?” Armand murmered. “He’s always been aloof.”

Lestat smirked faintly. “He’s not aloof,” he said quietly. That wasn’t the right word for Louis at all, not the way Lestat knew him anyway. But he considered for another moment before finally answering. “This trip he took… It’s just the first. The next will be longer, I know. And the one after that, even more so.”

Armand lifted his hand to Lestat’s hair and twirled his fingers about a flaxen lock of it. It had always delighted him, the color of it, so like an angel’s. But Lestat was no angel. “Just be assured in the knowledge that he won’t be going anywhere for now. Believe you me, he had it worse than me with this illness. And I don’t plan to move from this very room for as long as I feel this way,” Armand muttered into Lestat’s chest. It was these rare moments of intimacy that he cherished the most with him. He loved Lestat, and to have a moment with him without horrid words was a blessing. “And for the love of God, do not smother him, Lestat. That’ll only push him away more.”

Lestat’s eyes fell closed at the feeling of Armand’s fingers moving through his hair. “I’m not,” he insisted a touch defensively. In fact, he’d been giving Louis even more space than usual. Of course he’d wanted to monitor him constantly when he was ill, but he tried to be discreet about it. But otherwise, he made a point of only coming when he was asked for. “I’ve cleared the calendar… Canceled all upcoming events. There’s absolutely nothing to tax his energy or patience. Nothing for him to complain about being forced to endure on my account.”

Armand let Lestat’s words wash over him, sighing as he thought. Something about that last sentence perturbed him. He furrowed his brows, perhaps deeper than intended, and continued his work on Lestat’s hair. “You are really concerned about this,” he said knowingly. It was completely unlike Lestat to cancel anything that would allow him to make a spectacle of himself.

Louis’s comfort wasn’t the only reason Lestat had wiped the calendar clean, or even the main one. There was more to it than that…but he let himself focus on how it would please Louis as a way to avoid thinking about the deeper reasons. He shook his head to deny Armand’s statement, turning his face more down against his auburn hair, though his eyes opened and he stared past it to the pattern in the wallpaper across the room. _Really concerned_ wasn’t right. Worried, yes, about the whats and hows of it all. But there was a point where he had to simply accept inevitability. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said after a minute. “In this very room, even if it’s for a regrettable reason… But here in my house, with us all.”

Armand hummed dubiously, as if some part of him didn’t believe the statement. “You mean you are glad I didn’t die after all, so you still have someone to quarrel with at court like an unruly little brother,”h e murmured, voice tinged with humor. Yes, Lestat was younger than him. But stronger, and taller, and bigger in most ways. So in many ways Armand was the little brother.

He knew Armand was joking, and Lestat was pleased that Armand was in good enough spirits to even do so, but he also didn’t like that he’d been dismissive of Lestat’s sentiment. His arms around him tightened slightly in a reproachful way. “I don’t want to quarrel,” he said quietly, seriously. “Honestly, I had no fear that I would lose you. Perhaps I should have, but I didn’t… I don’t think it’s something I could ever conceive. If I had been awake, in my right mind, years ago when you tried to give yourself to the sun and everyone else thought you lost, I don’t think I would have even feared it then. Somehow, I just know you’ll always be here…”

“Like a cockroach…” Armand hummed again, playfully. Something about the ambiance, the lightness of it all, perhaps the fact that this whole ordeal was behind them made him this way. “I’m glad that I am here too. And I am grateful for your attention in this moment.”

Lestat smiled, genuinely amused this time. “Yes, rather like a cockroach.” He kissed Armand’s hair before turning his face back to stare at the TV for a long, distant moment. “Do you know of any movies that were filmed in New Zealand?” he asked absently.

“Ah, a few. Some of Daniel’s favorites. The Lord of the Rings Trilogy, if you’ve ever seen that. But it’s slow and set in a time that looks medieval. You’d find no enjoyment in it at all.” Armand shrugged, frowning at the nature of the question. “Why do you ask?”

Lestat scoffed at the implication that he wouldn’t like a slow film. He liked period dramas just fine. Especially if the actors were good. “I want to see the scenery,” he answered in the same idle tone.

“Beaches and mountains, as far as I know. Not something you’ve never seen.”

Lestat rolled his eyes. He’d seen enough fleeting images of the country’s landscape to know it was more impressive than that, but if Armand didn’t think so, he wasn’t going to argue with him aloud. He’d look up the films on his own later.

Armand raised a brow, pulling away slightly from Lestat and looking at him. “Are you sure you’re quite alright?”

He laughed softly and looked down to meet his wide brown eyes. “Of course I’m not,” he said dismissively. “None of us are.”

Armand quirked a brow reproachfully, locking eyes with Lestat and melting further into his arms despite himself. “So I missed my window of opportunity for your openness then? When I made that joke about fighting you in court? And you’ll dismiss every query of concern that I have now?” he murmured. “Lestat, I can tell something is wrong with you. What is this New Zealand nonsense? It’s just us two here.”

Lestat scowled at him faintly. He didn’t come in here to pour out his soul, and Armand had no place to expect it of him despite their friendship. After a moment, though, he glanced away and shook his head. “Gregory recently reminded me of how beautiful it is… That’s all.” He paused, then added, sounding somewhat offended now, “Nothing’s wrong with me.”

Armand sighed and relented, not wanting to ruin the moment. They were so, so rare between them. “Alright then, nothing is wrong with you.” He shrugged, wanting nothing more than to press back into Lestat, but feeling as though he’d messed it all up completely. “Is there something I can help you with, while you’re here?” he asked gently, hoping to lighten the mood.

Lestat’s gaze flicked back to Armand’s and he laughed. He moved his arms to take Armand’s face between his hands. “Oh no you don’t.” He knew that look.

“No I don’t what?” Armand raised a brow, looking into Lestat’s eyes. Truly, he had no idea. “Not everything I do is to tease you.”

Lestat narrowed his eyes at him, but smirked a little at the same time. He’d never bought in to Armand’s innocent expressions. His thumbs brushed across his flawless round cheeks, and he merely studied him for a minute as if considering how to answer, but then he lifted his chin to press a kiss between Armand’s eyes. “You should rest.”

Armand sighed into the kiss, nodding. “I was trying to, if you recall, but who am I to deny you entrance?” he said wryly, pulling away from Lestat and settling down. “May I put in a request for those blankets then?”

Moving his arms back around Armand, Lestat pressed him down to settle against his chest. “Mmm yes,” was all he said, and he fully intended to have a king’s ransom of blankets delivered for Armand. But for now, he didn’t make any move to go. He just rested quietly with him for a long time and tried his damnedest not to think.

Armand relaxed into Lestat’s chest and closed his eyes. Truly, he would be asleep within minutes with the level of contentment he felt now.

——————————————

After he’d been assured Armand was resting, Daniel had taken to wandering the halls, earbuds in, music too loud, wondering how many miles one could walk just through the castle interior. He had destination in particular in mind, but wasn’t surprised when he found himself wandering up to Marius’s door. Armand was his maker, but Marius was the one who’d been able to be there for most of his immortal. A quick mental question as he approached gave him permission to enter, and he slipped in silently, just as Marius had taught him.

Marius was using this time in his rooms to paint. After all that had happened, there was a lot of stress to get off his back. He had already tried a bath and a nap and this was his last resort. He’d heard the approaching footsteps, but it wasn’t enough to pull him from his work. His mind had slowly gone from turbulent to steady, his art was the reason for that.

“Hey,” Daniel called out, exhausted and weary, making his way to the room’s back corner. “No sleep for you either, Gramps?” he asked, trying to bring levity to the room.

Marius set his brush down, revealing a painting of the Tuscan countryside. “Good evening” he greeted warmly as he moved to the sofa. “I will give you one pass,” he teased. “Do sit down and tell me what is troubling you.”

“You know you don’t have to stop painting on my account,” Daniel said, looking at the canvas, touching the soft sable of a clean brush. He’d never picked up the art like Marius had, despite his many lessons…still enjoyed some craft work from time to time though, just not trains. “You’ve heard, of course? Armand’s finally getting some decent rest. And Louis too, but… Jesus, my ears are still ringing from his screaming!”

“I have heard. And for that I am grateful.” Marius paused. “I am grateful for your being there.” He offered Daniel his hand that was adorned with gold rings, each with rubies except for one. One looked very old and had a signet on it. “How are you doing?”

Even after all his time with Marius, sometimes Daniel still wasn’t sure he’d picked up all the right etiquette. He wanted to hold his hand a moment, but seeing him so often in court, he had the thought of whether he ought to kiss his ring.

“Well, Fareed gave me the clear. I won’t get sick, so that’s one less thing for you to worry about. Armand says you better bring him flowers when he wakes,” he added with a lopsided smile. “In his movies, if someone’s sick they always get flowers.”

“You do not need to be nervous around me,” Marius soothed as he placed his hand gently on Daniel’s shoulder. “I am relieved to hear such good news,” he added as he considered the flowers. “Will you accompany me to find some nice ones for Amadeo?”

Daniel felt color rise to his cheeks, remembering trying to bring flowers and small trinkets to Armand as a mortal. He could never afford anything very nice, but Armand had taken a liking to his sad little bundles of daisies, and he let the image of those pretty white and yellow flowers to slip from his own mind to Marius’s.

“While I appreciate the thought,” Marius replied, “I would truly like you to come with me. You’ve much better taste in florals than I.” He chose these words to boost Daniel’s confidence and to allow him to feel useful. “If it isn’t going to get in the way of any preexisting plans,” he added as he started to pack up his art supplies.

Daniel took a jacket of his that still hung on Marius’s coat tree; he had his own space now and was no longer in need of Marius’s care, but old habits died hard, and so many of his possessions were strewn in with Marius’s.

“But something tells me,” Marius continued, “that there was more you wished to discuss than florals and art. Though I never mind those topics.”

“…Just Armand,” Daniel said softly, checking his pocket for his wallet. “I went to see him earlier, he’s still so exhausted he can barely keep up a conversation…I don’t like seeing him like this. Doesn’t it…doesn’t it just make you think of almost losing him again?”

Daniel was speaking some of Marius’s worst fears, but even as he listened intently, Marius knew better than to make himself seem vulnerable to those young in the blood. “Of course it causes worry, but I also look at reason,” he rationalized. “Amadeo is strong. He always has been and will continue to be,” he explained. “And I will be there for him so long as he needs.”

There was a quiet bite in the back of Daniel’s head that asked, _will you be though?_ But he kept it tempered down. He didn’t want Marius to hear that, it wasn’t fair. He’d been nothing but giving and kind to Daniel, and he knew there was a great deal of love and devotion towards Armand too, and always had been…honestly, it was just new water to tread, to have an equal relationship now that he was well, and now that he knew the history Marius had with Daniel’s own maker.

“We could visit him together when we get back… He’d like to see you, Marius.”

Marius wanted to say yes. He truly did. But he could not.


	8. Full Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis asks David for relationship advice...in bed.

Louis knocked on the door of David’s private chambers. Now that he felt better, he knew he owed the other an apology at the very least.

The sound jarred David awake. The last thing he remembered was stretching out on his bed and staring absently at the ceiling, exhausted from the past weeks’ events. He sat up and glanced around his darkened room before realizing it was a knock at his door. He stood from the bed and went to answer. Louis was there, looking so much better than he had been last time David saw him. “Louis! Come in.” He pulled the other man in and shut the door.

Louis offered David a polite smile as he took in his nap-rumpled hair. “I hope I didn’t wake you.” His tone was apologetic while his expression held warmth.

David rubbed lightly at his eyes and shook his head. “No, just a light sleep. Please interrupt me.” He pulled Louis close and held him a moment before letting go again. “I was so worried for you.” Louis’s eyes were bright and green again, as they should be. “How do you feel?”

Louis allowed his hands to drop to the side after the brief embrace. “Yes, that’s what I came to talk to you about,” he said. “I’m sorry for worrying you. I feel bad for putting you through that.”

“Don’t apologize. It was all beyond your control, as illness often is.” David felt a little uneasy suddenly. “I hope you don’t feel we were too aggressive in trying to keep you fed. I apologize if we made anything worse for you.” David felt an exhaustion pulling at him again. “I’m sorry, I’m still a bit tired.”

“I still feel bad for causing such trouble,” he said before shaking his head. “No, I understand it was coming from a good place.” He paused. “Would you like to lie down?” he offered. “We don’t need to be standing to talk.”

David smiled. “Yes, let’s lie down and rest together.” He took Louis’s hand and gently pulled him to the bed. He stretched out in his usual spot and patted the open space beside him, plumping up the pillows for Louis.

Louis removed his shoes before slipping in the space beside him. “I appreciate your hospitality,” he said with a tired smile.

David couldn’t resist kissing Louis’s temple and sliding his arm over his chest, snuggling close against him. “I missed you, brother,” he said softly, closing his eyes and resting his head next to Louis’s.

Louis shifted, making himself more comfortable before pressing a kiss to David’s cheek in return. “And I you, old man,” he teased. “This body suits you.”

David laughed a little. “I suppose it does. You didn’t know me in my original one, though. I still feel a bit of shock when I see myself in a mirror.”

“You raise a point,” he said. “And I cannot imagine the existential crisis,” he added as he stroked David’s cheek. “Do you ever want to talk about it?”

David sighed. He nuzzled against Louis’s throat and kissed just under his jaw then lay still, thinking. “I suppose when it first happened, I was most in shock. And I had my good friend Aaron there to help me. And I was making some progress, believe it or not. Then I got another shock when Lestat showed up and so abruptly changed me again.” David paused. “I don’t like to think about it really. Mostly it’s that I appear so young. I’m still baffled when mortals blatantly flirt with me in public. Do you get used to that?”

Louis ran a thumb over his cheek and rested his other hand on David’s waist as he listened. “No, at least I have not. Lestat may give you a different answer.” He paused. “I don’t blame the mortals, though. They have good taste.”

David grinned. “Are you flirting with me now?” He raised a brow at Louis. He turned his head slightly and kissed Louis’s hand. “Flirting from you is welcomed.”

“I might be,” he replied, a light blush colored his cheeks. “I’m glad that is not a problem.”

David leaned in and slowly kissed Louis’s mouth, sliding a hand into his soft hair. Sometimes he forgot that Louis required a softer approach to affection than Lestat did.

Louis returned the kiss as he leaned into the touch. His eyes fell shut, and he allowed himself to enjoy the moment. He did appreciate how David seemed to understand how different he was from Lestat.

David pressed him gently onto his back as he continued the kiss, sliding one hand down along his side and then lightly over his stomach and back up again. He cupped his hands behind Louis’s head and drank in this kiss, humming slightly, resisting the urge to bite.

Louis deepened the kiss, stifling a soft moan in response to the soft touches. His own hand had slipped up David’s shirt where he caressed his chest.

David nicked his own tongue on one of Louis’s razor sharp fangs and let this small amount of blood feed their kiss. As Louis’s hand moved against the skin of his chest, he became a little more daring and slid an arm down around Louis’s waist, pulling him tighter against his own body. Louis pressed closer and deepened the kiss further to taste the blood, his free hand cupping David’s cheek.

David pulled back and softly licked and kissed down Louis’s jawline to his throat. He opened his mouth at the pulse there and felt the beat of Louis’s heart quicken. It took the greatest effort for him to tame the animal instinct to bite sharply into him. He was almost shaking from the effort. “Are you going to let me do this?” he asked in a tiger growl.

Louis’s cheeks were flushed, and he hardly noticed that David had broken the kiss. The only indication was the feeling of his lips against his neck. His pulse quickened. “Yes,” he breathed out. “Do it.” This came out a bit stronger than he expected.

David sank his fangs in with a little more aggression than he intended, but the blood was hot and flooding his mouth. It was always a shock how sweet Louis’s blood tasted. Like strong sweet wine. Sweet like Louis. He tried to be slow, to pace it.

Louis moaned audibly. His head tilted to expose more of his neck. “David...” he breathed out, his voice husky.

Hearing his name spoken with such passion from Louis ignited a deep hunger to hear it again. David drew the blood into himself a little harder, tangling fingers in Louis hair, pulling his head back further, moaning against his throat.

Louis did not often allow himself to indulge in such carnal pleasures. His head fell back due to David’s actions. “I didn’t know this side of you,” he breathed out. “I thought Lestat was more your type.”

David lifted his head from Louis’s throat, licking the blood clean from his lips. “Don’t be so modest. You know you’re the most alluring thing to me. I adore you.” He kissed Louis’s lips again and snuggled against him. “Lestat appeals to a different side of me.”

Louis felt his cheeks heat up again as he returned the kiss. “I adore you also,” he said, speaking the truth. The wound on his neck was almost fully healed. “May I assume it’s the side of you that appreciates his body?” he teased. “There aren’t many that can resist him…I honestly don’t know where he and I stand.”

“Well, yes. But I also appreciate his overly enthusiastic outlook and strong determination to make everything good.” David frowned at Louis. “What talk is this? He loves you more than any other.”

Louis pressed soft kisses on David’s cheek. “I like to think that… However, I fear he’ll grow bored of me. We are not exactly alike.”

David smiled. “That’s crazy talk. If he was going to grow bored with you Louis, he would not have chased you for 250-odd years.” He kissed Louis’s eyebrow softly.

Louis chuckled, but there wasn’t any humor in it. He reached up and brushed his thumb over David’s cheek. “Maybe.” He left it at that, although he couldn’t help but to feel insecure. “I have totally killed the mood, haven’t I?”

“No.” David kissed Louis’s lips again. “Never,” he purred against his ear.

A soft sigh escaped him as he returned the kiss gently. “Good because I was getting worried for a moment,” he teased.

“Do you have something in mind,” David asked. “Or shall we sleep?”

Louis thought about it for a moment. In truth, he could spend hours talking with David about all his intellectual pursuits. He studied his expression in hopes of discerning the correct answer. “I always have some matter or another on my mind,” he admitted. “But do not feel obligated to trouble yourself with it.”

David rested his head on the pillow next to Louis, eyes fixed on him. He reached a finger out and touched the other man’s lower lip then withdrew it. “Tell me what you are thinking then. I want to hear what is on your mind. It is never a trouble for me, only a pleasure.”

Louis shook his head in defiance although there wasn’t much emphasis in the gesture. “I don’t know where to begin, or where to end for that matter.” He forced a smile although there was some conflict behind it. “In your past life, you studied our kind, no?”

David had not expected that, of all questions. “Yes,” he replied softly. “That was the entire purpose for the creation of the Talamasca. To study vampires.”

He nodded, nuzzling against David’s chest in the process. The reason for this question momentarily escaped him as he found himself growing more relaxed with each passing minute. He allowed the distraction. He moved his hand back to David’s chest and idly traced over it with his fingertips. “Have you ever heard of marriage between vampires?” he inquired, getting back on track.

As Louis’s question filtered through David’s hazy post-blood induced brain, he became fully awake again. Vampire marriage? What an odd question. He continued to softy twine a strand of Louis’s hair through his fingers and gave no indication of sudden alertness over the question. He racked his memory for any vampire marriages in past records. “Well, I know there are things like blood spouses, such as Gregory has with Chrysanthe. And I believe even Marius has referred to Pandora as such. But actual wedding type marriages, I don’t recall learning of any before Viktor and Rose. Not to say they don’t exist. Why are you asking this question, my love?”

Louis continued to run his fingers over David’s chest in attempt to keep his mind steady. “I want to show Lestat that I am serious about being with him,” he said, but quickly realized how silly this sounded. “I mean…I worry and I...” He shook his head again and dropped the topic, for he wasn’t even sure how to articulate this.

David was fully awake now. So here was the root of the question. Lestat. David tried to imagine Louis and Lestat in a traditional church ceremony with little flower girls and vows exchanged and rings. Would they throw rice afterwards?

Louis could pick this image from David’s mind. It caused his cheeks to flush, and he looked down shyly. “The ceremony is not what I meant,” he said, unable to hide his embarrassment.

David slid a hand down along Louis’s back and pulled him closer against his own body. He kissed his temple lazily. “Serious about being with Lestat as you lay very intimately with me here in my bed?”

David, as usual, brought up a good point. “I for certain know he’s in the arms of another.” Louis was deflecting. “Lestat revels in the ability to get attention.”

David felt concern for his brother suddenly. He put a hand on Louis’s chin and tilted it up so he could see his face. “Louis, he would revel in your attentions any time, in any way. And if you want to express vows of love to him before the whole court, you know he will jump on that offer. You are already his spouse though. I’m not sure you understand that.”

Louis clearly didn’t understand that in the slightest. He truly did not know what his relationship with Lestat was when his maker was affectionate with everyone. He locked eyes with David and thought about his words. “How do you figure?” he asked before moving his hand from David’s chest to his cheek.

David couldn’t resist and leaned in for a lingering kiss before answering. “So let’s makes a list, shall we,” he began with an amused smile. “Over two hundred years ago he crosses an ocean to find a companion, on Marius’s instruction. He finds you, out of everyone in that new world colony. He made you, he moved in with you to your plantation home. You had a few years as a new couple. Circumstances moved you into the city where you lived together again. He made a child for you. You raised that child together. Now, skipping past the unpleasantness that separated you, he searches for and finds you again by creating a rock star persona and turning the entire vampire world on its head. Then more circumstances separate you, but you still find one another again.” David paused for all that to sink in. “I wonder if you see the pattern there. He keeps returning to collect you, Louis. Does he do that for any of his other children? He places you to the right of himself in every council meeting.” David paused again and looked into Louis’s eyes. “He made me for you. I’m quite convinced of it.”

Louis listened, and the more David pointed out, the more Louis was able to understand. And now he felt bad for being such an ingrate. Though he knew this guilt would most likely fade eventually. “I suppose you bring up a good point,” he replied reluctantly. “Though I do have doubts that you were brought into the blood for my amusement.” The thought of it seemed ridiculous to Louis. He fell silent for a few moments, filling it with soft kisses to David’s temple instead of words. “I do appreciate you, regardless of his intent.”

David sighed heavily and flopped back on the bed. “Not amusement. Companionship and love, Louis.” He stared at the ceiling above his bed, suddenly wishing to no longer be lying here. “I think I’m going to go to the library. Do you want to join me?”

Louis stole a kiss from David’s lips before replying. “Of course I do. I was hoping to find another book to read, since I’ve gone through my own collection thrice already,” he lamented. “Do you have any recommendations?”

David slid off the foot of the bed and put his shoes on. “I have lots of recommendations. What are you in the mood for? Biographies, Fiction, History? Oh, I would like to detour through the gardens first, because I want to see the full moon this evening.”

“I would prefer Fantasy,” Louis said. “I have recently reread the Lord of the Rings.” Normally, he would be embarrassed, but David’s company put him at ease. “I’ll oblige you. I heard it is a lovely evening.”

\---------------------

First Lestat had checked Marius’s chambers, then Armand’s and Daniel’s, then the ballroom and other areas where he often found his ancient friend adding embellishments to the many murals he had already covered the castle with. Eventually, he finally picked up the hum of Marius’s heartbeat emanating from the gardens, and Lestat followed it there.

Being out under the cloud-covered stars managed to make Lestat’s tense frame relax somewhat, and he smiled at the sight of the tender care Marius was paying to a rose bush that needed pruning. He leaned against one of the stone railings, his arms folded over it as he watched. “May I ask something of you, my friend?”

Marius caressed each branch to avoid the thorns before snipping the rogue ones. “Fledglings are like this bush here,” he said. “You need to treat them with kindness and patience to grow. But if they become unruly...” He paused to abruptly snip another rogue branch, and it fell to the earth. “Well, you are smart enough to understand the analogy.” He chuckled and turned his attention to Lestat, finally answering his question. “Of course you may. What’s troubling you?”

Lestat studied him for a curious moment. Had he been speaking of his own fledglings, or trying to make Lestat realize something about one of his? But none of Lestat’s had done anything particularly unruly lately… At least not that he was aware of. Lestat tried to let them all lead their own lives, and he simply remained available for when they ever needed him. It was the least he could do after so many years of living like a vagabond shadow with no contact before he became the prince.

Unconsciously, his hand lifted to his throat, brushing in a line across it, though all that was obvious from his mind were thoughts of how deftly Marius wielded his shears. There was art in every gesture he made, every tool he used. “Nothing at all is troubling me,” he answered with a faint smile. “There’s something I’d like you to paint for me, if you’re willing. A portrait…”

Marius cut one final branch before gingerly placing the shears down. When he spoke, he did his best to keep his full attention upon his companion rather than his current activities. Although he did not often agree with what many had to say, he did always listen. “For you, I am willing,” he replied. It had been a very long time since he’d taken any sort of requests. “A portrait of whom?”

Pushing back from the railing, Lestat went around to the stairs, coming down to the rose bushes to join Marius. “You have covered our entire chateau with so many perfect images. I don’t know how you do it. The mural on the ballroom ceiling is a crowning achievement. I’ve seen you bring to life in paint the essence of everyone I love...” He paused on the path, cupping his hand around a full white rose bloom, enjoying its velvety weight. “I’d like a portrait of Claudia,” he said softly, his eyes remaining fixed on the flower. “Something grand… I’ll have it framed magnificently. You’ve seen her well enough in my mind to capture her, I know.”

Marius’s brow furrowed in confusion. He did not understand the request in the slightest. He knew of her fate, of course, and was also pretty sure that Claudia was not exactly Lestat’s favorite fledgling. “If this portrait is to serve as a warning to those who wish to cross you…” he warned. “Then I will have no part in that.”

Lestat’s eyes snapped up in surprise. “Not at all,” he said on the edge of his breath. He realized he was clutching the flower too tightly, and he released it at once. “She couldn’t help what she did.” He hadn’t seriously thought Marius would refuse him this when he’d painted so much for the chateau already. “I want you to paint her not as she was at the end…but earlier. When we were happy. I’ll give you the images. I’ll sit with you while you do it, if it helps. You can take whatever you like from my mind for it. Only…you mustn’t have her in yellow.” Any color but that.

Marius studied the other’s expression until he was satisfied that Lestat’s intentions were pure. “I will accept this job,” he replied. “Does blue suit you?” he asked. “I feel it goes with her eyes.” He decided not to question this further, though he had an inkling this had something to do with Louis.

Lestat smiled, relaxing again, though his gaze was somewhat distant. He was remembering her…they had so many blissful decades before things started to go bad. In some ways, she had always been Lestat’s crowning achievement. His greatest crime as well, of course, but that only added to the fact. “Yes…blue. And...” He paused to think. “Perhaps Louis ought to be with her? Only he mustn’t look sorrowful at all. He so rarely did when they were together, you know. Or perhaps even all three of us? There were...” He stopped himself with a shake of his head. No use remembering the times they were three all so happy. “No, it had better be just her.” He focused on Marius again. “Thank you, my friend.”

As Marius listened, he gleaned more out of what was left unsaid than from Lestat’s words directly. “No need to thank me. I never mind helping you.” He paused. “I have seen Louis in passing, and he has been looking better. I am certain that’s a relief.” He paused once more. “Or are you two quarreling again?”

Lestat laughed softly, though there was little actual humor to it. “Quarreling? Not at all.” Louis would have to actually speak to him to manage that. Marius wasn’t wrong about the relief, though. Relief seemed to be the only emotion Lestat was capable of feeling these days after so much fear and worry.

Marius was not sure if Lestat was being fully truthful, but he didn’t question it. “I am pleased to hear that.” He paused, wanting to say something else but ultimately deciding against it.

Lestat moved around the path that bordered the rose bed and looked off to the lower gardens. “You’re relieved as well, I hope?” It wasn’t as if Lestat were the only one who should care about Louis’s well-being.

“I am. I know how much he means to you.” Marius was going to go on, but then he noticed the man in question approaching through the gardens along with David.

Of course, Lestat could hear nothing of their thoughts, was blind to both his fledglings’ presence. His head tilted as he studied Marius, not at all trying to shield any of his obvious thoughts…thinking about how calm Marius always was, how completely collected, how his millennia of existence had formed him thus. But this appreciation was overtaken by a memory of him calling out to Lestat, to all, when he was trapped under the ice after Akasha awakened. And Lestat wondered if that ice prison had been torturous. Or had Marius grown numb to any pain? If no one had come for him, would he have eventually been at peace slumbering in that frozen place?

Marius was able to glean each of these thoughts. They made a mix of anger, sadness, and frustration rise within him, but he quelled it before it showed any outward effect. He wasn’t even sure why he felt this way, for he knew that this was meant to be a compliment. He was grateful that David and Louis had shown up to distract him from these emotions.

David had his arm bent and Louis was holding it as they walked down the stairs of the garden to where the rose bushes were. He stopped short when he saw Marius and Lestat there as well. “Oh. Good evening,” he greeted. “We came to see the full moon.”

“Gentlemen,” Marius answered warmly. “It is a very nice night indeed. Do join us.”

“Good Evening, Marius” Louis paused, his eyes fixed on Lestat. “And Lestat, of course,” he added. He was eager to accept Marius’s invitation.

Lestat turned around to look at the two of them up on the path. His heart leapt to see them arm in arm, so affectionate with each other. They would always take care of each other, wouldn’t they? Even when Lestat couldn’t anymore. Lestat smiled at the sight, the white light of the moon David mentioned shining so upon them. “Is it full? I hadn’t realized...” Lestat looked for it then, moving past the trees until he was in a better position to see.

David was glad to see Louis was not shrinking into his usual timid self at the sight of Lestat suddenly here in front of them. They both continued down the stairs until they came to roses. “Hello, Marius.” The roses smelled fragrant. He let Louis’s hand go and joined Marius at one of the bushes. “Are you trimming hedges? Don’t we have gardeners for this?” He picked up a rose and smelled it.

“It is relaxing,” Marius replied. “No work is too menial. One must learn to mix paints before he can use them,” he pointed out. Though he knew this analogy meant nothing anymore. Paints came in a tube, ready to be used, in colors that would have been deemed witchcraft in his time.

David nodded in agreement. Marius always made him a little nervous. A strange feeling for David, who was rarely intimidated. Marius was not ignorant of this, though he did not understand it fully. He had never lost his temper with the man.

“Nice evening out. The weather is pleasant.” David fell back on weather in times like this. He glanced over as Louis approached Lestat. Would they make up before they started another round of miscommunication? He looked up at the moon, bright and round in the sky. “How often did you look at the stars in your mortal time, Marius? Did you memorize their patterns?”

Marius was taken aback by the question, for it wasn’t one he was often asked, if asked at all. He hummed an initial response as he looked over the shapes. “Often enough,” he said, giving a non-committal answer. He found beauty in the shapes, but they also mocked him in a way he did not know how to articulate.

Meanwhile, Louis had gravitated toward Lestat, as he always did. “It’s nice to see you with some free time,” he said, breaking the ice. His tone was uncertain, as if he was afraid of offending. “Though, really, I should apologize for how I spoke to you.”

Lestat glanced aside at Louis, admiring how the full moon made his face glow, how well he looked now after the debilitating illness. He could still detect signs of it, but he knew they would fade soon enough, and once more that sense of temporarily relief touched him. Stepping close to Louis’s side, he put an arm around the back of his waist and tipped his head against Louis’s shoulder, his gaze fixed up on the moon again. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said lightly. Louis was free to speak to him however he wished, of course.

The great white circle of the moon reminded him again of that tomb of ice he’d just envisioned. Even if it had been painful for Marius at first, he thought, surely it wasn’t a suffering that could have lasted long. How different would it have been, he wondered, compared to being buried in the earth? Different, surely, but in what way?

Louis placed a soft kiss to the top of Lestat’s head. He put a hand on top of Lestat’s while his gaze remained fixated on the moon. David was right. It somehow put everything in perspective. “It was uncalled for,” he pointed out, wanting to reiterate that he was not upset with his maker.

Lestat shook his head a little against Louis. He honestly wasn’t even sure what Louis was apologizing for. Did he mean the way he spoke when he was ill? Lestat could hardly blame him for that. It was a symptom of the illness. If Louis meant before that, then Lestat could hardly care either. Being so fearful for Louis’s life while the illness gripped him erased any other such petty grievances.

“Sometimes I wish I could hear your thoughts,” Louis muttered before he could stop himself.

Lestat smiled a rather sad smile, since he knew Louis couldn’t see his expression. There was only one way he and Louis could ever hear each other’s minds, after all... But it was something Louis so rarely wanted to share with him. Chaste embraces like this one were the most Lestat could usually ever hope for. “Are you angry with me?” he asked after another moment, though his tone was still casual. “For taking so long to know you were ill?”

Louis shook his head. “No. I mean, I was angry, but it wasn’t personal. The disease made me feel such anger.” He exhaled. “But now, no. That is the truth. I could tell you were scared after what had happened with Armand.”

Lestat laughed softly and his fingers tightened just slightly against Louis’s side. “I’d promised you an eternity where disease could never touch you… I would have been angry too if I were you.”

Lifting his head off Louis’s shoulder, Lestat combed his pale hair back from his forehead with his other hand to keep the breeze from blowing it in his eyes and blocking his view of the moon. “Do you ever think we’ll make it up there?” he asked idly. “Any of our kind. Imagine…vampires on the moon. I’d like to be the first.”

What could Louis even say to that? He did not know. So he offered nothing at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all are enjoying this fic so far! I wasn't lying when I told you it was going to be a damn SOAP OPERA. Please share your thoughts and feels with me. Comments give me life, and I am sooooo thirsty for them!


	9. The Notebook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is the weight of the crown becoming too much for Lestat??

It had begun to feel like checking off a list, though Lestat had never intended it that way, but he continued to make an effort to see each person who served positions of note in his court before he made any _decisions_. He should have gone to Fareed sooner, he knew, but wasn't that true for them all?

Fareed, as usual was in his laboratory. He was not working on anything for once, but rather packing various things up. After the last folly, he no longer trusted himself as a physician or as a friend. Several boxes of equipment were neatly stacked upon his desk and lab benches. On top of one of them was a letter for Lestat explaining that he was going to take his leave.

But it seemed he would not need it. Fareed picked up on Lestat's presence just before Lestat let himself in. "Good evening, my friend," Lestat said, though he frowned faintly at the state of things, not liking what it implied.

Fareed stopped mid-task. "Good evening," he said, though there was not any joy in his words. "I was hoping you would find the letter after I had left."

Yes, there was nothing about this Lestat liked. He studied Fareed's tense features as he came further into the room. "Are you going back to California?" That was nothing new. Why he should need to write a letter about it, though, gave Lestat doubts.

Fareed shook his head. There was a solemnness to his features. "No," he replied, deciding to be truthful with Lestat. "I have been a danger to everyone here. And I should not be permitted to carry on in such a way."

Lestat's eyes widened just a fraction, and he took a step forward as if he feared Fareed would disappear on the spot. "Permitted by whom? By Me?" What a preposterous thing to say. "Where do you mean to go?"

"By myself," he clarified. "I've broken my oath to do no harm." The pain in his voice was coming through now. "I could have killed Armand and Louis...and countless others."

Lestat shook his head adamantly. Yes, they had all feared such a thing, but it had not come to pass. No true harm was done in the end. "Fareed," he entreated, crossing to him and taking one of his hands between his own. "You have done more good for our kind than any vampire I have ever known."

"And I've opened a can of worms that can never be resealed. We thought our kind immune to disease…" He shook his head. "So I created one." He paused. "Lestat, I cannot be trusted."

"I trust you," he said quietly, but seriously. "Do you truly want to go? I won't keep you if you do. But what is it you really mean to say? You do not work alone. A vast team works under your direction. Do you mean to leave them on their own?"

Fareed somehow doubted Lestat's words, though at the same time he didn't think that Lestat was capable of such deceit. "I do. I will appoint someone to take my place, for I have crossed a line that I cannot turn back from." H felt his own emotions rising, and to keep from exploding, he started to reorganize some of the boxes. "At best you should be asking me to take my leave."

Lestat's hands fell as he watched him, his brows furrowed in a way that looked almost angry, though it didn't reflect in his eyes. "Well, I'm not." He frowned for a moment as he watched him line up the corners of two crates. "Where do you mean to go? What will you do?"

"I haven't a plan," Fareed said. "But it will sort itself out soon enough." He spoke with a certainty he did not have. "But I cannot stay here any longer. Nor can I practice medicine."

"You're being an idiot," Lestat blurted out, but then he shook his head as if to negate the harshness of it. "I would have you stay. We all would. I speak for all in this court. Fareed, we love you. I can't force you to stay, and I wouldn't anyway, but it's what I wish."

Fareed shook his head. "I cannot leave this ordeal unscathed. How can I hurt those closest to us and not be punished? I do not understand."

"Do you want me to punish you?" Lestat stepped forward, putting a hand gently against the side of Fareed's shoulder. "I don't think you are unscathed, my friend. And I won't give you any pithy nonsense about making up for misdeeds through all the future greatness your work will undoubtedly supply… But I am loathe to lose you, and that's the truth of it. Go if you must. But just for a time. And promise me you will come back?"

He didn't break free from Lestat's touch. He kept his gaze fixed upon him and couldn't help but wonder if Lestat felt bias because he raised the man's son. "I will go, and I cannot make any promises that I will come back. However, I can promise that I will consider it," he said, figuring this promise was one he could keep.

Lestat didn't like that answer. It triggered something in him he desperately had been trying to avoid thinking about. Dark thoughts, envious thoughts. Fareed meant to _escape._ But Lestat tried to suppress all that and focus on Fareed.

"You are our future, Fareed. You know that, right? Oh, please don't hate me for saying it. It sounds like a terrible burden to bear when I put it that way. But it's true nonetheless. And it need not be terrible at all. We have all made mistakes. Every last one of us. Catastrophic mistakes, even, that you are more than familiar with." Lifting his other hand, Lestat brushed his fingertips against a stray strand of Fareed's hair, straightening it, trying to make him look like the consummate professional he'd always been. "Your goodness is immeasurable. Even if you never did another thing in your existence, all you have done already far outweighs this mistake. And any other you might make."

Fareed was not sure if Lestat was trying to be a mediator or if there was something else going on. Either way, the doctor didn't feel great about it. "The road to hell is paved with good intentions," he said. "I could mean all the goodness in the world, but the outcome is what matters." He spoke as if he were punishing himself by not allowing forgiveness from others.

"And it is the outcome I'm talking about." Lestat squeezed his shoulder warmly before letting go. "So you invented a disease. So what? You cured it. It's over. No one died. That is the outcome. Imagine all you can do now with what we've learned from it. What your team can do with you to lead them."

Lestat might have said a million more such words, but it made no difference. Within the hour, Fareed was gone.

\---------------------

David sat in a comfortable chair in one of the chateau’s pretty parlors, stretching his long legs out before him. He watched the fireplace and let his mind drift.

Armand had been observing him for some time before he finally made his presence known. "What a handsome figure you cut with the fire's glow upon you." He smiled kindly from the doorway. Naturally David had known he was there, but he'd made no gesture to confirm it.

David glanced over at Armand. He was always a little wary of this one. Armand had such an unpredictable temperament. Eternally an emotional teen. "Hello, sir. Please come join me, if you like."

Armand allowed himself a small chuckle at the term of respect. Sir indeed...with a face like his? He took the invitation and sat in the chair opposite David. "You've been thinking quite intently. I've not probed your thoughts, of course, but you've been thinking. What of?"

David looked Armand over as he settled. What a pretty thing he was. It was easy to see why Marius had fallen so hard for him so long ago. "I suppose I'm thinking mostly about Louis at this moment. But really, my thoughts are all over the place since the virus situation." He smiled pleasantly at Armand. "Are you well now? Louis seems much recovered."

Armand nodded knowingly. Louis, yes. People often thought of Louis. Armand had been thinking about Louis himself very much lately, particularly as someone who knew what Louis had gone through. "I am mostly well. The exhaustion comes and goes, but I am mostly myself again. I am not sure if that is truly a relief to those around me." He smirked.

David laughed a bit. "I am sure it is a relief. I am relieved. Your loss would have been a tragedy for the entire court."

Armand shot David a look, a mixture of mirth and reproach. _A tragedy indeed_ , he thought. He could count the people who would be remorseful on one hand. "Are you well, yourself?"

David crossed one leg over the other, sitting up more properly in the chair. "I am fine, thank you." He considered for a moment before speaking again. "I have been spending a bit of time with Louis lately. Have you noticed him to be any different, since even before the virus came along?"

"I must say I've not spent much time at all with Louis. I've been a bit of a hermit since this whole thing began."

David refrained from frowning. He searched for a new topic. "I saw Marius in the gardens the other night. Pruning rose bushes."

Armand looked David over once and arched a brow, detecting his disappointment. "I've heard that Louis has been distant lately, if that helps.” Of course, Armand would not betray that he’d heard this from Lestat. “What do you mean by different?" he asked, before lightening at the mention of his maker. "Was Marius well? I don't know where he finds the time."

David tried not to laugh. "You, sir, are the definition of distant. Are you sure it was Louis who was being the distant one?" David tried to say this with a warm smile, in hopes Armand wouldn’t bristle at the observation. "And speaking of distant, Marius also seems rather obsessed with filling his time with hobbies rather than socializing."

Armand felt amused at this, but kept the amusement away from his features. "I am warm enough with those close to me. Apparently I've learned my distance from my maker…or perhaps we're both upset with you." He allowed himself a coy smile at this at least.

This gave David pause. Had he done something recently to anger Marius or Armand? He couldn't think of anything. He saw Armand's smile and relaxed again. He spoke softly and arched one brow. "Well, I would hope you would tell me if I have caused you any discomfort."

Before Armand could answer, they were joined in the parlor by none other than the prince himself. Lestat smiled in a faintly distant way at his fledgling, stopping by Armand's chair to face David. "Forgive the interruption. There's something I need from you," he said to David, though by his tone it didn't sound like anything the least bit urgent.

Surprised, David stood immediately to be polite. "Anything," he replied. He was always thrilled by just the sight of his maker, and it was hard to hide that now.

David's reaction filled Lestat's heart, and his eyes brightened for the first time all day. He waved a hand at him though. "Oh please, sit down."

Armand quirked a brow, looking between the two of them. It was plain to see the adoration the young vampire held for Lestat. Deciding to play with this affection, Armand placed a hand upon Lestat's on the chair. The gesture did not seem out of place after their last meeting, when Armand had been comfortably wrapped in his arms. "You've done nothing to upset me at least, David. I was only teasing a moment ago."

Glancing sideways down at Armand, Lestat smirked. "You should know better than to tease David. He takes everything far too seriously." He moved his hand from under Armand's to ruffle his auburn hair.

David noticed the move by Armand and felt an immediate territorial instinct within himself, sending a warning glare to the little monster-angel, but he quashed it as Lestat chastised Armand playfully. David took advantage of his standing position and quickly kissed Lestat's cheek before taking his seat again. "So tell me, what do you need from me?"

Armand smirked. Would have laughed, but managed to keep it to a smirk. David's eagerness and jealousy were just too precious. Honestly, did he know that Armand and Lestat had shared more intimate moments than this? That they already had? He stayed silent. Now that he was more himself, he might toy with this even more.

David’s kiss had evoked another faint smile from Lestat, and he shifted to lean an elbow against the wing of the Armand's chair, making no move to sit himself or join them. "Thank you, David. You know how I'm always losing things..." He waved his hand in the air vaguely. "And I couldn't tell you how many phones I've tossed away because I'd forgotten how to access them. Well, I've written it all down." He reached into his pocket and withdrew a little leather notebook. "It's all here…passwords, logins, account numbers, verification codes. Absolutely everything for all my devices and accounts. But it's hardly secure." With a flick of his fingers, he tossed the notebook to David. "I want you to memorize it for me. And then destroy it, of course." Besides David being one of his most trusted friends, Lestat knew how sharp and skilled his mind was, and it would be a simple enough task.

David stared at the leather bound book that fell into his lap, then back up at Lestat. "What am I, your personal secretary? You really need to learn technology, Lestat. It isn’t going to disappear. You'll never survive time if you don’t start keeping up with it now." He picked up the book, half tempted to toss it back at Lestat, but not wanting to make this scene in front of Armand. "Do this yourself, Your Royal Highness."

Lestat arched an eyebrow in surprise. David’s reaction wasn't what he'd expected at all. Had he become too used to being obliged in all things? He didn't know whether to be angry with David or to laugh. "What happened to 'anything'?" he asked wryly.

Armand openly laughed at the exchange. Oh, but he liked a fledgling with attitude. He tapped the arm of the chair. "Oh, but won't you sit, Lestat?" he asked kindly, noting that he’d opted to stand. If Armand could have Lestat beside him, tease David, then so be it. "You know there are many of us that could help you with technology. Daniel included."

Lestat’s eyes remained on David for another moment, but then he shook his head, letting it go. He turned to Armand instead. "I've sorted out the technology. That's not what I mean. It's just these endless strings of numbers and letters to keep remembered and secure." He gestured to the book David still held, but made no move to take the seat Armand offered. Instead, Lestat leaned down close to him over the arm of the chair, his nose almost brushing his round, youthful cheek. "How about you then, hm? Will you do it for me?"

David had felt his nerves rankle at the sound of Armand laughing. He could deal with Armand being ill mannered, but Lestat joining in on the game was quite enough. "Stop, please. You know I have this quick temper lately. Stop testing it."

Armand thought on this for a moment. He turned to Lestat so that their lips were inches from one another's. God it would be so easy now, to steal a kiss, to really incense David. But the tone in Lestat’s voice made Armand pause for thought. "As I said, Daniel might help." He locked eyes with Lestat suggestively before pulling away entirely. "Or Benji, perhaps."

Lestat withdrew from Armand, a faint disappointment clouding his eyes. "Thank you. I'll ask one of them."

But he wouldn't. Neither Benji nor Daniel had the mental powers David or Armand possessed, and Lestat did not trust their minds to be as secure as he wished with his account numbers and passwords. But there were others he could ask. This was a thing that needed to be done. Turning away from Armand, he crossed to David's chair and plucked the little book back out of his fingers.

After tucking it away, he took David's face between his hands, tilting it up to him. "I am sorry for offending your temper," he said sincerely. Lestat kissed him lightly on the lips. David's pulse skipped, and he resisted an urge to grab Lestat and hold him there, then Lestat released him and turned away to leave the room.

He paused at the door before going out. "Oh, if either of you can figure out what's wrong with Louis," he said, revealing he'd overheard their earlier conversation, "I'll give you anything you want." He turned back to the door then to allow them resume how they were before he interrupted. "If anyone asks for me, I'll be on the roof," he said as he left. He'd figure out who else to ask to be his personal secretary later.

"Nothing is wrong with Louis," David called after him. "I was just making conversation." But he was gone.

Armand turned his attentions to David, smile fading but mirth sparkling in his eyes. "Ah, but you think me the perfect devil about now," he said knowingly, stretching his legs out before him and crossing them at the ankles. "I love Lestat, David but I won't take him from you. It's just been a while since I've had any fun at all, what with this illness. I might take you from him." He laughed.

"Well that makes no sense," David muttered, looking back at Armand. "He's unlikely to let himself be taken by anyone anyway." David fixed Armand with a stern look. "Don't try me."

Armand turned to David with a glint in his eye, taken aback by the boldness in the younger vampire's tone. And here he thought that David was the pinnacle of politeness, so wary to offend him.

A challenge, then.

"Try you, David?" He grinned. "I assure you, if I wanted to try you, I would catch up to Lestat and bring him in here, and go further by far than what you'd just seen."

David scowled. The truth was he didn’t even know why he got this way lately. Just since this whole court started, he'd become this quick tempered thing by any suggestion that either Lestat or Louis were being threatened or just touched in any way by anyone but himself. It was an alarming behavior he never had as a mortal man. He took a few calming breaths. "Forgive me, Armand. I have this new trait that I had not been aware of until recently. I don’t know if it was always there, dormant, or something has brought it on." He looked at Armand. "Have you had this experience before?"

"What, jealousy, possessiveness?" Armand asked amusedly. He knew these emotions too well. People had held them towards him, and he'd held them very rarely. "Yes, I have experienced it. But only over one that I could never truly hope to own or control. Everyone else has been just as important, but has never incensed me in that way." He shrugged. "As for having traits brought up within me that I was not aware of, well I know little enough of myself to expect them by now."

David felt like he was not himself right now and had better get away from Armand before he said something regretful. He stood and reached out a hand to touch Armand's auburn hair gently. "I'm sorry. I was being so rude just now. I feel I need to go find Lestat and apologize to him as well. Good evening.”

\---------------------------

Lestat lay on his back on the stones of the castle roof, staring up at the stars. This had become his habit over the past few nights. He'd tried calling Amel on the phone while he rested there, but their former sacred core had not answered. Then Lestat tried calling Rose, but she hadn't answered either. He wasn't surprised. It was late.

He'd turned off his phone after that and set it safely against one of the parapets. Next to it, he'd set the little notebook David had refused to take. Just in case. And now he was thinking about New Zealand again, and Marius in the ice, and Louis's inevitable next journey, and the portrait of Claudia Marius was painting, and the Bermuda Triangle, and vampires on the moon.

Lestat wished he could see the moon, but it had already set for the night, so he just watched the way the clouds moved across the stars. How high could he go, he wondered, if he just went straight up? What would eventually stop him? He would have to try it sometime…but not tonight. Not yet. For now, he just waited for the dawn to drive him back inside like always.

When David found him there, the starlight was bathing Lestat in a lovely glow, and David admired this for a long time before finally stepping out onto the stones of the roof and striding to stand over him. He looked down on Lestat silently then spoke, "Okay, give me the damned book, and I'll memorize your ridiculous passwords and user names and account numbers. I hope you realize how much power you are giving me by doing this."

Lestat's gaze very slowly shifted from the sky to meet David's above him, and he smiled just a little. He always liked it when David got angry, when all the cracks showed in his usually polished demeanor. "Yes," he said simply. He absolutely realized exactly what power he was giving David. He'd chosen David for a reason. His fingers twitched faintly where he had them laced across his chest, but he didn't otherwise move. His eyes flicked to where the book was propped up against the stone, right next to his dark phone. "It's there."

David's eyes darted over to the book, but he didn’t immediately reach for it. He knelt down beside Lestat and stared at him closely. "Something is wrong. Why are you doing this? You know I could go in and change all your passwords, all your accounts. Clean you out, and then you would need my consent to get anything?"

The small smile remained on Lestat's face, and he lifted one hand to graze his fingertips against David's cheek. "Would you do that?"

David didn't immediately answer, just knelt there, feeling Lestat touch his cheek, looking at him, trying to fathom why he couldn't just memorize this stuff himself. "I might do that, yes. I might like that. Seeing as my consent has never been something to stand in your way before; but now you would need it, wouldn't you?"

Slowly, lightly, Lestat's fingertips traced along David's jawbone before falling away again and folding back on his chest. He considered his words for a moment, closing his eyes, but then exhaled in a way that seemed more like an expression of peacefulness than any kind of sigh. "I don't think so."

"My god, you're being more confusing than Armand." David continued to stare down at him. He was being too quiet. This was very un-Lestat-like. David leaned down, placing his arms on either side of Lestat's head, kissing his lips and then speaking softly against his ear, "The sky is getting lighter. Are you planning to sun bathe out here? Come inside with me."

Lestat's eyes opened slowly, though he couldn't see much beyond David's hair. "I could sleep up here," he said casually. "Gregory does when he's visiting. Somewhere over there, I think." He gestured to one of the towers, then lifted his arms to reach up to put them around David. He held him that way a moment before letting go to get up, absently dusting himself off. "There _is_ something wrong with Louis, though, you know," he said, addressing what David had mentioned earlier when Lestat left the parlor.

David felt relief wash over him as Lestat stood. He'd been mentally preparing himself for having to physically drag him back across the roof and inside to the crypts. He reached over and took up the book, then stood as well, facing Lestat. "There was nothing wrong with him the other night when he was letting me do unspeakable things to him in my bed."

Lestat stared at David in shock. The comment was so against his usual almost-militant polished politeness that it left him completely speechless for a moment. And then Lestat laughed. He laughed so hard, he had to turn to the parapet to lean against it for support.

"No so unspeakable..." was all he managed to say before the laughter took over again. He sighed, pressing a hand to his forehead. "Well! Then I must be wrong, mustn't I?" He smirked at David and shook his head, his eyes flicking over his features as if calculating something.

David felt his jaw tense. He didn't know why he'd spoken it so blatantly, just that he'd been short-fused lately. Perhaps the court was doing this to him. All these blood drinkers in one closed-in location. All these blood-thirsty killers mingling so closely. "I'm sorry," he apologized. He was doing that a lot lately. "Just to say, Louis seemed fine. He was fine. He was beautiful."

Lestat stepped forward abruptly, his hand clenching around David's throat. Despite the suddenness of the movement, he didn't squeeze or push him or even hold him anything but lightly. "Good," he said quietly, looking at him much more closely. David froze in place. He waited for fangs to be in his neck just as suddenly as Lestat had grabbed him, but it didn't happen.

Lestat smiled and released him and turned to the door that led to the stone stairs. "I'm glad to hear that." He went through to go back inside, starting down the stairs, completely forgetting about his phone he'd left against the wall. "Really quite glad."

 _What was that_? Some dominant move to show Lestat was still the maker, that David had gone too far to have brought up Louis in such a way? David couldn't read anything Lestat did any more.

He noticed the little phone by the wall as Lestat left the rooftop, and David picked it up. So now he was the keeper of the royal phone and the book of passwords and accounts. So be it.

\------------------------

Marius had silently entered Armand's room. Although he said he respected his fledgling's privacy, his actions often showed the contrary. In his hand, he held a bouquet of roses and a handwritten card which he planned on leaving for Armand to find.

Armand himself had not been far behind, planning to settle down away from prying eyes. The exhaustion was one of the last symptoms of the virus, but damn it was persistent. He felt a pang of rage to see he door ajar, and was ready to scold whatever blood drinker had deemed himself worthy of entering before he sensed that it was Marius.

Armand’s shock increased, however, to see his maker standing with a bunch of roses. He arched a brow, his face melting from anticipated rage into an amused smile as he shut the door behind him. Never in all their years had Marius made a gesture like this. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I was in the gardens, and these roses made me think of you," Marius said. "I apologize for the intrusion," he added, a bit more quietly this time. This was partially because he wasn't exactly sorry this time.

Armand's brows shot up entirely. What on earth had gotten into him? Marius had never apologized for such an intrusion. Why, he came across as a bumbling suitor almost, completely endearing and tender.

"Well, then I believe thanks are in order." Armand smiled gently. He gingerly took the flowers from Marius and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Naturally they'll die. I don't have a vase."

"Everything dies," Marius said, hinting at what was weighing on his mind. "For however long they last, I want to share their beauty with you." He reached over and caressed Armand's cheek. "How are you feeling?"

Armand set the flowers down and sighed softly, closing his eyes against the touch. _This_...this was what he had come to expect from Marius, what he loved so much. Not flowers and cards, lovely as they were.

"Tired," Armand murmured, unwilling to lie. "But otherwise well. David said you were tending the garden. How sweet that you'd think of me."

"Understandably so," Marius said empathetically as he coaxed his fledgling closer to him. "I am always thinking of you, Amadeo. You are incredibly high maintenance," he added in jest.

Ah, there it was. If Marius hadn't said something insulting, Armand might have inquired of his well being. "Bastardo," he muttered without conviction, allowing Marius to guide him into his arms. "I can't say I lament being on your mind, however. Is that truly the extent of it?" he asked dubiously. "You've never brought me flowers before. Are you well?"

"Ingrate," Marius replied with equal levity before pressing a soft kiss to Armand’s forehead. "It is the extent that you need to concern yourself with," he countered, his words muffled by their closeness.

Armand raised a brow. He had truly hoped they were past all this. Past Marius thinking he needed to be a pillar of strength, devoid of his own emotions. "Tell me. I can handle it, Master." He frowned into Marius's chest, the exhaustion settling into his limbs. "But perhaps I would handle it better if we were sat."

Marius did not want to deny Armand any small comforts, so he moved to the bed and sat down, hoping that Armand would follow. "I do not doubt you can handle it. However, the concern is about my own ability to do so," he said, allowing himself to be vulnerable.

Armand did follow. He sat carefully beside his maker and looked at him hard, as if trying to decipher his thoughts. His own ability to do what? Marius was an expert on handling all things. "What do you mean?" he asked tenderly, slipping his hand into Marius's larger one.

Marius ran his thumb over the back of Armand's hand. "I cannot explain," he said, although the truth was that he _would_ not do so.

Armand sighed and lifted Marius's hand to his lips, brushing kisses against his knuckles. "If you might try, I am here to listen. I'm not going anywhere," he pressed. He knew it was futile.

Marius shook his head, refusing. "No, while I appreciate the sentiment, I do not want to turn my attention toward such things," he said with finality.

Armand sighed again, deeply this time, and let it slide. He pressed a full kiss to the back of Marius's hand, then to his knuckles again, and then turning his hand to his fingertips. He could tell that Marius was hurting over something. "Fine, then. Is there anything else you'd like to turn your attention to?"

Of course there was, but Marius could not bring himself to confess that either.


	10. Husbands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis and Lestat have a heart to heart...in bed.

It never used to be that the couple hours a night Lestat and his advisors spent listening to visiting vampires’ concerns and requests tired him, but after reopening the castle to all guests now that the virus had passed, the court hours seemed to last so much longer.

When he and his council of ancients were finished for the night, Lestat quietly excused himself from the group, claiming he had business to attend to. But instead, he went up to the tower to Louis's room, where he knew he'd be much less likely to be found by anyone other than Louis himself. He collapsed onto Louis's bed, burying his face in the pillows to take a nap.

Louis returned to his room some time later. He looked at his bed and wasn't surprised to find his maker there. "You better not have shoes on my bed," he warned, though there was not any malice in his voice this time. He did not need the mind gift to know Lestat was exhausted.

Lestat had tensed when the door opened, but he relaxed when he heard Louis's voice. He turned his head enough to see him, looking through the pale cold hair that fell across his eyes. "Mmm, no. I remembered this time." The sight of Louis was enough to make Lestat smile in a sleepy way. "Come here."

"Good," he said. "Because I don't make any exceptions to that rule." A bit of Louis’s southern accent slipped out as it usually did when he was tired. The smile on Lestat's face made his heart flutter, and Louis didn't need to be told to join him twice. He approached the bed but first pulled the sheet back to ensure the shoes were actually off.

They were! Louis was taking too long, so Lestat reached up and pulled him down onto the bed, gathering him close and pressing his face against Louis's shoulder. "Don't tell anyone I'm here," he said his voice muffled against him, even though he had no intentions of letting Louis up to do so anytime soon.

"You're something," Louis muttered, shaking his head. "And who's there to tell? My room isn't a revolving door like yours."

Lestat laughed softly against Louis. No one ever came to Lestat's room, but still, it was a funny thing to say, and he appreciated the humor. That it made Louis sound jealous, well, he liked that too.

Lestat turned his face up, inhaling the scent of Louis's hair... same as the pillows, but stronger. "I spent a lot of time in here, you know, while you were gone on your trip."

Louis was insecure in their relationship, but he often did well in hiding it. He allowed himself to take in the sight of the beautiful man in front of him. "Did you, now?" he asked. "Your room is nicer than mine. I thought you hated my taste in décor."

Lestat smirked and moved a hand up to brush some of Louis's hair over his ear. "If you think my room is nicer, then you must have good taste after all." His gaze slipped past Louis as if to take in the room's decor, though he couldn't see much of it from this angle. All the nights he'd come in here while Louis was away on his trip, everything in the room only reminded Lestat of _him_ , so of course he couldn't hate it.

"Allow me to clarify," Louis mused. "Nicer in your opinion. I prefer my own bed." He left out the part about his preference of Lestat in it. He shifted so that any space between them was gone. "What happened out there?" he asked. "You don't run away from attention for no reason."

Lestat sighed as their bodies connected, and his arms tightened around Louis a little. He was quiet for a moment, as if he might dismiss the question, say it was nothing, refuse to talk about it as usual. But he was only thinking. The truth was he didn't know how to explain. But he tried. "I just didn't have the heart for it… But nothing really happened. It was..." He had to pause to laugh softly at the irony. "Was business as usual."

Louis sighed happily, finding comfort in the embrace. "So you were bored?" he asked, trying to stifle a laugh. "You wanted nothing to do with any business, so you thought to hide here?"

Bored was absolutely not the right word at all. But Lestat didn't contradict Louis. It was probably for the best he made that assumption anyway. "Mmmm," he agreed noncommittally. "Force of habit I suppose. After coming here so much the last few months while you were gone."

Louis’s expression softened and his eyes lost the humor behind them, for he didn't need to be told that he was wrong to make these assumptions. "I don't mind," he said quickly. "Though, there is something I wanted to talk about."

That soft look in Louis's eyes made Lestat's heart flutter. He took the time to memorize it, along with the way Louis felt in his arms, saving it all away for later when he would need to recall it in lieu of the real thing. "What's that?" he asked, sounding a little distracted as he was so busy looking at him.

Louis could feel Lestat's gaze upon him but for once he didn't mind. Louis shook his head despite already opening this can of worms. "It's nothing...I only wanted to understand where we are..." He worded the question poorly.

Lestat didn't realize how he'd started to tense up until it faded. He didn't really understand what Louis was asking, but at least Louis hadn't announced he was planning on leaving again as Lestat had feared, so that was a relief.

He studied Louis for a moment, but he was almost afraid to ask him to clarify. "Tell me the truth," he said softly after a moment. "Am I really the only reason you came back here? You hate it here, don't you..."

Louis shook his head again. "No, I do not hate it here." He could tell that Lestat was worried. "That's not it at all. I was thinking about us. I do not know where I stand in your eyes. You seem happy with so many others."

Lestat wasn't sure that he believed Louis, but he didn't challenge it for now. Thinking that Louis hated the castle, the court, the crowds, the constant company, it explained things... But if that wasn't it, then Lestat didn't know what to think of Louis’s distance. But he was too confused by Louis's explanation. _Where he stood_? How could Louis not know?

Moving his arm, he touched Louis's face lightly, tracing the line of his cheekbone. Who were these _so many others_ Louis was referencing? The guests who begged his service as prince every night? No, they would not factor into this conversation. Did Louis mean lovers? _What_ lovers? Did Louis really think _others_ came to Lestat’s rooms through a revolving door? Did he think Lestat ever held another the way he was holding Louis right now? Was Louis that blind??  
  
"Are you talking about David?" Lestat asked, a clash of emotions hitting him as he recalled the jealous way Louis acted the other week in the library when he was sick, as well as the way David had spoken last night about Louis. _Unspeakable things,_ indeed!

Louis leaned into Lestat’s touch. It was habit by now, yet at the same time, it provided him comfort. "Not particularly," he said, not knowing how to make his question any more obvious. "What am I to you?' he asked, deciding that being blunt was the only way to have Lestat understand. "I need to know if I'm just another fledgling, or your plaything when you get bored."

The words shocked him, confounded him, and Lestat shifted back on the bed, though he didn't release Louis completely, his hands remaining on him. "Louis..." he started, stung. His hand pressed more fully against Louis’s face, and Lestat tilted it up to see him better, propping himself up on his elbow to look down at him. There was no sense in asking Louis _didn't he know_ because clearly he didn't, and yet how could he _not_? "Louis," he started again, his tone much more intense, though his voice still very quiet. "You are the only thing keeping me on this earth."

Louis kept his gaze fixed on Lestat. His hand moved to Lestat's arm, but he didn't make any attempt to push him away. His own self-consciousness and insecurities were getting to him. Yet he did not know how to perfectly articulate his fears. "I..." He bit his lip a bit too hard and caused a trickle of blood to run down his chin. He didn't dare make a movement to fix himself. "I don't understand."

The sudden scent and sight of Louis's blood made Lestat's eyes cross, made him loose grasp on the thoughts that has been so solid and tangible a moment before. "Don't you?" he murmured, though there was no judgment to his tone. Tilting his face down, he ran his tongue over the trickle of blood from its end back up to its source, his lips lingering against Louis's lower one for a moment before shifting back just enough to speak again. "Louis, you are...the best decision I've ever made."

Louis’s cheeks turned a light pink and his grip on Lestat's arm tightened out of surprise, but he quickly loosened it. He shook his head in disbelief. "Really now? I thought I was another impulse."

A shudder coursed through Lestat's body as the tiny drips of blood soaked in. With a pleasurable sigh, he tilted his forehead against Louis's, forcing a few inches between their mouths so he could manage to talk. "Do you mean when I made you?" he said as if that had been far from his mind. "That was...sublime... But the stroke I can thank there was luck rather than genius. No, I don't mean that old infatuation... I mean now. Us. How we keep each other..."

Louis’s expression changed. His eyes were softer, but there was still an edge to it. He let Lestat's words sink in. The three words that he never dared to speak aloud to him kept playing through his mind. But the time wasn't right. He couldn't just say it. Not when this could all be one of Lestat's many games. "I..." He stopped himself quickly. "Think I understand now," he corrected. "Thank you."

Lestat stiffened, his eyes closing, and he exhaled slowly. Letting his arm relax under him, he settled against Louis again, his face pressing against the side of his neck, Louis's throat fitting perfectly against the contour of Lestat's nose and forehead. "Do you?" he whispered, not sounding as if he really believed it.

His fingers curled against Louis's hair and then slid down so that his hand pressed flat against Louis's chest. "Are you going to go again?" he asked almost too softly to be heard. Really, he should have asked _when_ Louis would go away again. Because it was inevitable, wasn't it? But he couldn't bear to yet despite all the preparations Lestat had been making for how he would cope once Louis left him.

Louis pushed all doubts to the back of his mind. Lestat needed him more than he needed Lestat in this moment. And selfishness was not in Louis's nature. "I do understand," he insisted as he moved his hand to rest it upon Lestat's. "I have no plans to leave again," he said. "I will remain here."

Lestat didn't believe him, but it seemed such a pretty lie that he cherished it all the same. Or even if Louis had no _plans_ , that was just a technicality, wasn't it? It would happen. Louis would leave him. At least, this time, Lestat would be ready for it when he did.

He was silent for a very long while, just breathing against Louis, memorizing the feel of every contour of him over and over again. It seemed Lestat would fall asleep and resume the nap Louis had interrupted, but then he spoke again. "How would you have yourself be to me?" he asked, returning to Louis's question.

Louis was not expecting this question. Of course, he had an answer, but part of him was embarrassed by it. He knew that Lestat would ridicule it, calling it another of his romanticisms. "I would like to be your husband," he muttered, barely audible.

It felt like Lestat's heart stopped. And maybe it actually did for a moment. On the surface, it was such a meaningless thing to say, but coming from Louis, it made a world of difference. There was so much else unspoken beneath it that turned all their years together on end and shook them out until they were exhausted.

His fingers against Louis's chest curled just slightly into the fabric as if to make sure he was really there. His eyelashes moved against Louis's neck, and Lestat finally remembered to breathe. "I like that," he said simply, stupidly. But it was the innocent truth.

Louis had expected to be mocked. He’d mentally braced himself for Lestat's wide smile and haughty laugh. But it didn't come. What surprised him more was the reaction he actually got. "Really?" he asked, unable to conceal the disbelief in his tone.

Lestat shifted back to prop himself up to look at Louis again, though his eyes were a little glazed with his weariness. He frowned, his fingers lightly stroking back strands of Louis's hair from the edges of his face as he spoke softly, "I know I tend to fall in love with every new friend I meet, and I've made more fledglings than any other vampire here, but you're different, Louis... I wish you could see that."

Louis scanned Lestat's features as if searching for the lie or the joke. But to his surprise, he could not find one. In its place, he saw vulnerability and genuineness. "I do also," he replied. "I worry that you prefer others to me. That you made David to get rid of me."

"Hmmm." The ghost of a smile touched Lestat's lips as he studied Louis. "So you would be my husband? To end such worries?" He tilted his head a little, his fingertips against Louis's hair slowing, but not stilling completely. "My companion, my partner, my equal, my consort, my husband... only you, Louis."

He nodded. "Yes Lestat," he said, though his tone was sheepish as if he were waiting for a punch line. He let out a soft sigh, his muscles relaxing under Lestat's touch. "I love you," he whispered. He hadn't meant to say it then, but his self-control had been stolen by those soft touches.

Warmth blossomed in Lestat's chest, and he hadn't realized how cold it had been for so long until it did. "My heart is yours," he said just as softly as Louis's whisper.

Louis blushed. "I truly hope so," he said, unable to hide his own joy.

Tilting his face down, Lestat pressed a tender kiss to the corner of Louis's lips. Closing his eyes, he sighed, but a moment later, he was seized with an impulse that almost frightened him. "Let's run away together," he whispered.

"That is a terrible idea," he said. "Another one of your impulses that will lead to consequences." He paused. "I propose we take it down a bit and maybe share an apartment...maybe a room?"

Louis calling the idea terrible just made Lestat all the more interested in it, suddenly feeling the first stirrings of excitement he'd felt in a long time. And he was about ready to insist, to say damn the consequences, let's go to Bangkok. But then he was effectively distracted by the next thing Louis suggested. "A room?" He'd never known Louis to not want his own private space, as much as Lestat invaded it anyway, but he was interested. He tilted his head to glance aside, considering the space they were in now. "This room?"

"I...don't see why not. So long as you don't ruin the décor," he teased. Asking Lestat to move in might have been Louis’s own impulsiveness. "It's large enough for two."

The room's closets certainly weren't large enough for Lestat's wardrobe which already filled all of his closets in his own apartment just upstairs. But he could just as easily keep such things up there and still spend his time in this room with Louis. "It would be absolutely impossible for me to ruin this decor..." It could only be improved.

Louis raised a brow. "If anyone is capable of such a feat, it is you" he countered. He was rather fond of his decor. 

Turning his face back to Louis, he smiled at him just faintly. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather run away together?"

"I am sure it will be a bad idea" Louis restated. He liked the idea of escaping all this, but he also was well aware of the consequences. Not that consequences ever stopped Lestat. His argument was interrupted then as Lestat kissed him slowly, as if to try to entice him into the idea. Louis eagerly returned it.

Lestat shifted back just the barest minimum it took to talk. "Yes, it's a wretchedly, wickedly terrible idea. Let's do it." He kissed Louis again, long and slow. "Right now. I'll take you anywhere you want to go, Louis, my husband. We'll start over. Just us."

"As tempting as that sounds, I cannot in good conscience encourage your rebellion." he muttered into the kiss. "I do not doubt we could be anywhere in the world in the blink of an eye. But we have responsibility."

Lestat sighed heavily and shifted down, burying his face against Louis's chest. He tried not to take the refusal personally. It was a ridiculous impulse to begin with. But it could have made them so happy.... _Rebellion_. What an odd way to phrase it. Who would Lestat be rebelling against, other than himself? Although, perhaps there was more insight and truth to that notion than there seemed... "What if I don't give you a choice?" he asked, muffled by Louis's clothes. "What if I just whisk you away?"

Louis studied Lestat, trying to discern the meaning behind his eyes. Again, he wished for the mind gift to work between them. "I would be very cross with you. I hope you'd value my autonomy enough not to do such a thing," he countered, though this was a lie. Louis very much liked a romantic gesture.

"God damn it, I do," Lestat muttered, defeated for the moment. He kept his face tucked down as he thought for another minute and then, with a sigh, he rolled over onto his back so he was lying next to Louis, staring up at the bed's canopy. His hand moved to find Louis's, his fingers lacing with his. "What if I ran away, then, hm?" he asked, not sounding serious at all, as if looking for a loop hole. "Would you chase me this time?"

Louis took Lestat's hand, his gaze remaining fixed upon his husband. "You know I'd let you go. I'd mourn you greatly though," he teased. "Besides, you'll return on your own volition. You always do."

A small frown tugged at Lestat's lips, his eyes remaining up on the brocaded hangings above the bed. "Yes," he sighed. "I suppose I do." His fingers tightened against Louis's. He was still for a silent moment and then turned abruptly toward him again. "Why do you bring all this up?" he asked softly. "What is it you really want from me that you don't already have?" He sounded genuinely interested, almost a little desperate in a quiet way.

 _Husband_ was such a silly, meaningless word to their kind. But clearly it meant something to Louis. Something different than they’d ever shared before, even though Lestat considered them bonded beyond all others. Something more than sharing a room. "Would you have me reject all other lovers?" he asked. All those other lovers Lestat didn’t even have.

Louis ran his thumb over the back of Lestat's hand. Again, Louis was not prepared for this question. It was times like these where he feared that Lestat could actually read his mind and that he purposefully brought up the hardest questions to answer. "No, that's not it," he said almost defensively. But his own expression had an uncertainty. "That would be hypocritical of me. No?" He chuckled, but there wasn't any humor in it. "I wish I could tell you why. Maybe, despite everything, I am insecure." He gave the most truthful answer he knew how despite it not feeling like enough. He shifted so that now he was on his side.

Lestat almost wished Louis had said yes, simply because it was something Lestat could have _done_. An action, a solution. And doing something would have felt so productive. But such simple answers would be ultimately meaningless, wouldn't they? When what ran between himself and Louis was so much more twisted around than all that.

He drew Louis's hand up between them and brushed his lips over the fingers that folded through his own. "I'd give you anything you asked, you know," he said as he studied him. That's what was different between them now compared to the past. "I love you, Louis. I love you...love you more than...more than _myself_."

Louis was not one to give simple answers for anything. Complexity was woven into the fibers of his being which unfortunately made matters such as this more difficult. Of course having Lestat only love him would make things easier, and Louis would be lying if he said he didn't want that. But he also knew it would be an impossible ask, like telling an eagle not to fly.

Louis used his free hand to caress Lestat's cheek. "I know. And it's a very dangerous power you've granted me." He bit his lip. "In those early years, I might have begged you to jump in the fire. But now, things are different. You've stolen my heart, and I don't know how to reconcile these feelings."

Lestat smiled a little, amused, but there was a sadness in his eyes. He kissed Louis's fingers and put his other hand against his waist. "They are so very different... But I do miss those years, sometimes. When it really was just us."

Louis relaxed in response to the touch. One gentle touch from his maker was enough to put his mind at ease. Part of him hated Lestat for having such an effect on him after everything they'd been through. But perhaps hate wasn't the right word. "Do you? I can easily torch this place and run away from you. I can curse your name, scatter your ashes in the bayou and damn you to hell," he replied, a strange intensity built in his voice as he spoke.

Nostalgia wasn't the word for what Lestat had been feeling lately, but a bit of it touched him now as he remembered what Louis had _actually_ begged him for back their old days, which was simply for Lestat never to leave him despite all their problems. "I don't believe there's any danger in love," he said wistfully. "Not true danger."

"Then you're the fool. Love is the most dangerous game."

Reasonably, Lestat knew Louis wasn't being serious. And yet, the words struck him deeply, singed his heart in a way he immediately attempted to conceal. "Yes," he said, forcing a smile to drive back the burning that threatened to rise behind his eyes. "I am the greatest fool of all. I'm sure I've always known that."

Louis’s intensity dissipated as quickly as it was brought on. "I have. But you're my fool," he said. "And now I could never do such things. Even if you asked me to." He leaned forward and pressed his lips against Lestat's.

Lestat returned the kiss immediately, grateful to lose himself in it. He closed his eyes tightly, keeping them that way to fight back any threat of tears. Releasing Louis's hand, he slid his arm under him and pulled Louis close against him again, tangling himself thoroughly up in him. _Anything_... anything at all to drive away the threatening despair. To forget that he was still convinced Louis meant to leave him any night now.

Louis pressed closer but broke the kiss. He had about a hundred questions on his mind but had difficulty settling on one. "How is David?" he inquired.

Lestat's mind was still spinning from the kiss so that it took him a long moment to really hear Louis's question. He blinked a little to clear his thoughts as he recalled how oddly David had reacted last night when Lestat had asked him to help with his passwords. "I don't know," he said softly, reluctantly. His gaze drifted from Louis to fix on nothing in particular. "He seems tense…like he wants to bait me. But to what end, I don't know…" But why was Louis asking? From David's account, Louis had been spending more time with him than Lestat…

Louis'd brow furrowed as he watched his maker's expression shift. "What do you mean bait you?" he inquired, thinking back to his own night with David. His cheeks turned light pink in response to the memory. Now he was grateful that Letstat could not read his mind. "He does seem different, doesn't he," he agreed. This change of subject only served to keep attention off himself, though Louis knew this wouldn't last long.

"It's as if he wants to make me angry," Lestat said, his tone distant, not sounding as if he could have the energy to be angry with anyone at all. "Although I am not sure that it is a conscious desire..." He felt the warmth in Louis's cheeks before he noticed the change in color, but it drew his gaze back to his face. He smiled a little, giving him a knowing look. "Do you have an idea why?" Since Louis was the one who brought it up, he hoped that's what he was getting at. Lestat would love to have this particular mystery resolved.

"I unfortunately do not. Although I can make an assumption," he said, knowing full well that assumptions could be dangerous also. "It might be a better idea to talk about it," he added in attempt to settle this internal debate. "It would give us a definite answer rather than relying on conjecture."

"Mmm, yes," Lestat said, tilting his face enough to brush his lips against one of Louis's lightly flushed cheeks. "You can ask him about it next time he takes you to bed." He was only half serious. He'd ask David himself if he saw him first. But he said it anyway just to get a reaction out of Louis. He was curious about Louis's assumption, but not enough to press him on it now.

Louis squirmed uncomfortably. He never told Lestat about this. But in a moment of clarity, he realized David must have. "Or you could watch and ascertain the information that way," he retorted in an equal attempt to get a reaction from Lestat.

Lestat was tempted to tell Louis exactly what David had said, but he honestly hated the idea of embarrassing Louis in any real way. It did anger him that David had crossed that line with the way he spoke, even though Lestat hadn't acted on it and didn't intend to. Besides, Louis was already squirming enough for his liking.

Lestat gave him a faint smirk in reply, not at all allowing himself to seem shocked. "Oh, is that an invitation?"

Louis was not expecting Lestat to take the bait in this way. He swallowed thickly. "Well..." He let he words trail off. "If you want. Though I don't understand why you would want to."

Lestat laughed softly, enjoying the reaction he'd achieved. He brought his hand up to brush a curl of black hair over Louis's ear with his thumb. "Of course you don't," he said, not at all believing Louis, but willing to allow the lie to stand for the sake of frustrating him further. It never used to be that the couple hours a night Lestat and his advisors spent listening to visiting vampires’ concerns and requests tired him, but after having reopening the castle to all guests now that the virus had passed, the court hours seemed to last so much longer.

When he and his council of ancients were finished for the night, Lestat quietly excused himself from the group, claiming he had business to attend to. But instead, he went up to the tower to Louis's room, where he knew he'd be much less likely to be found by anyone other than Louis himself. He collapsed onto Louis's bed, burying his face in the pillows to take a nap.

Louis returned to his room some time later. He looked at his bed and wasn't surprised to find his maker there. "You better not have shoes on my bed," he warned, though there was not any malice in his voice this time. He did not need the mind gift to know Lestat was exhausted.

Lestat had tensed when the door opened, but he relaxed when he heard Louis's voice. He turned his head enough to see him, looking through the pale cold hair that fell across his eyes. "Mmm, no. I remembered this time." The sight of Louis was enough to make Lestat smile in a sleepy way. "Come here."

"Good," he said. "Because I don't make any exceptions to that rule." A bit of Louis’s southern accent slipped out as it usually did when he was tired. The smile on Lestat's face made his heart flutter, and Louis didn't need to be told to join him twice. He approached the bed but first pulled the sheet back to ensure the shoes were actually off.

They were! Louis was taking too long, so Lestat reached up and pulled him down onto the bed, gathering him close and pressing his face against Louis's shoulder. "Don't tell anyone I'm here," he said his voice muffled against him, even though he had no intentions of letting Louis up to do so anytime soon.

"You're something," Louis muttered, shaking his head. "And who's there to tell? My room isn't a revolving door like yours."

Lestat laughed softly against Louis. No one ever came to Lestat's room, but still, it was a funny thing to say, and he appreciated the humor. That it made Louis sound jealous, well, he liked that too.

Lestat turned his face up, inhaling the scent of Louis's hair... same as the pillows, but stronger. "I spent a lot of time in here, you know, while you were gone on your trip."

Louis was insecure in their relationship, but he often did well in hiding it. He allowed himself to take in the sight of the beautiful man in front of him. "Did you, now?" he asked. "Your room is nicer than mine. I thought you hated my taste in décor."

Lestat smirked and moved a hand up to brush some of Louis's hair over his ear. "If you think my room is nicer, then you must have good taste after all." His gaze slipped past Louis as if to take in the room's decor, though he couldn't see much of it from this angle. All the nights he'd come in here while Louis was away on his trip, everything in the room only reminded Lestat of _him_ , so of course he couldn't hate it.

"Allow me to clarify," Louis mused. "Nicer in your opinion. I prefer my own bed." He left out the part about his preference of Lestat in it. He shifted so that any space between them was gone. "What happened out there?" he asked. "You don't run away from attention for no reason."

Lestat sighed as their bodies connected, and his arms tightened around Louis a little. He was quiet for a moment, as if he might dismiss the question, say it was nothing, refuse to talk about it as usual. But he was only thinking. The truth was he didn't know how to explain. But he tried. "I just didn't have the heart for it… But nothing really happened. It was..." He had to pause to laugh softly at the irony. "Was business as usual."

Louis sighed happily, finding comfort in the embrace. "So you were bored?" he asked, trying to stifle a laugh. "You wanted nothing to do with any business, so you thought to hide here?"

Bored was absolutely not the right word at all. But Lestat didn't contradict Louis. It was probably for the best he made that assumption anyway. "Mmmm," he agreed noncommittally. "Force of habit I suppose. After coming here so much the last few months while you were gone."

Louis’s expression softened and his eyes lost the humor behind them, for he didn't need to be told that he was wrong to make these assumptions. "I don't mind," he said quickly. "Though, there is something I wanted to talk about."

That soft look in Louis's eyes made Lestat's heart flutter. He took the time to memorize it, along with the way Louis felt in his arms, saving it all away for later when he would need to recall it in lieu of the real thing. "What's that?" he asked, sounding a little distracted as he was so busy looking at him.

Louis could feel Lestat's gaze upon him but for once he didn't mind. Louis shook his head despite already opening this can of worms. "It's nothing...I only wanted to understand where we are..." He worded the question poorly.

Lestat didn't realize how he'd started to tense up until it faded. He didn't really understand what Louis was asking, but at least Louis hadn't announced he was planning on leaving again as Lestat had feared, so that was a relief.

He studied Louis for a moment, but he was almost afraid to ask him to clarify. "Tell me the truth," he said softly after a moment. "Am I really the only reason you came back here? You hate it here, don't you..."

Louis shook his head again. "No, I do not hate it here." He could tell that Lestat was worried. "That's not it at all. I was thinking about us. I do not know where I stand in your eyes. You seem happy with so many others."

Lestat wasn't sure that he believed Louis, but he didn't challenge it for now. Thinking that Louis hated the castle, the court, the crowds, the constant company, it explained things... But if that wasn't it, then Lestat didn't know what to think of Louis’s distance. But he was too confused by Louis's explanation. _Where he stood_? How could Louis not know?

Moving his arm, he touched Louis's face lightly, tracing the line of his cheekbone. Who were these _so many others_ Louis was referencing? The guests who begged his service as prince every night? No, they would not factor into this conversation. Did Louis mean lovers? _What_ lovers? Did Louis really think _others_ came to Lestat’s rooms through a revolving door? Did he think Lestat ever held another the way he was holding Louis right now? Was Louis that blind??  
  
"Are you talking about David?" Lestat asked, a clash of emotions hitting him as he recalled the jealous way Louis acted the other week in the library when he was sick, as well as the way David had spoken last night about Louis. _Unspeakable things,_ indeed!

Louis leaned into Lestat’s touch. It was habit by now, yet at the same time, it provided him comfort. "Not particularly," he said, not knowing how to make his question any more obvious. "What am I to you?' he asked, deciding that being blunt was the only way to have Lestat understand. "I need to know if I'm just another fledgling, or your plaything when you get bored."

The words shocked him, confounded him, and Lestat shifted back on the bed, though he didn't release Louis completely, his hands remaining on him. "Louis..." he started, stung. His hand pressed more fully against Louis’s face, and Lestat tilted it up to see him better, propping himself up on his elbow to look down at him. There was no sense in asking Louis _didn't he know_ because clearly he didn't, and yet how could he _not_? "Louis," he started again, his tone much more intense, though his voice still very quiet. "You are the only thing keeping me on this earth."

Louis kept his gaze fixed on Lestat. His hand moved to Lestat's arm, but he didn't make any attempt to push him away. His own self-consciousness and insecurities were getting to him. Yet he did not know how to perfectly articulate his fears. "I..." He bit his lip a bit too hard and caused a trickle of blood to run down his chin. He didn't dare make a movement to fix himself. "I don't understand."

The sudden scent and sight of Louis's blood made Lestat's eyes cross, made him loose grasp on the thoughts that has been so solid and tangible a moment before. "Don't you?" he murmured, though there was no judgment to his tone. Tilting his face down, he ran his tongue over the trickle of blood from its end back up to its source, his lips lingering against Louis's lower one for a moment before shifting back just enough to speak again. "Louis, you are...the best decision I've ever made."

Louis’s cheeks turned a light pink and his grip on Lestat's arm tightened out of surprise, but he quickly loosened it. He shook his head in disbelief. "Really now? I thought I was another impulse."

A shudder coursed through Lestat's body as the tiny drips of blood soaked in. With a pleasurable sigh, he tilted his forehead against Louis's, forcing a few inches between their mouths so he could manage to talk. "Do you mean when I made you?" he said as if that had been far from his mind. "That was...sublime... But the stroke I can thank there was luck rather than genius. No, I don't mean that old infatuation... I mean now. Us. How we keep each other..."

Louis’s expression changed. His eyes were softer, but there was still an edge to it. He let Lestat's words sink in. The three words that he never dared to speak aloud to him kept playing through his mind. But the time wasn't right. He couldn't just say it. Not when this could all be one of Lestat's many games. "I..." He stopped himself quickly. "Think I understand now," he corrected. "Thank you."

Lestat stiffened, his eyes closing, and he exhaled slowly. Letting his arm relax under him, he settled against Louis again, his face pressing against the side of his neck, Louis's throat fitting perfectly against the contour of Lestat's nose and forehead. "Do you?" he whispered, not sounding as if he really believed it.

His fingers curled against Louis's hair and then slid down so that his hand pressed flat against Louis's chest. "Are you going to go again?" he asked almost too softly to be heard. Really, he should have asked _when_ Louis would go away again. Because it was inevitable, wasn't it? But he couldn't bear to yet despite all the preparations Lestat had been making for how he would cope once Louis left him.

Louis pushed all doubts to the back of his mind. Lestat needed him more than he needed Lestat in this moment. And selfishness was not in Louis's nature. "I do understand," he insisted as he moved his hand to rest it upon Lestat's. "I have no plans to leave again," he said. "I will remain here."

Lestat didn't believe him, but it seemed such a pretty lie that he cherished it all the same. Or even if Louis had no _plans_ , that was just a technicality, wasn't it? It would happen. Louis would leave him. At least, this time, Lestat would be ready for it when he did.

He was silent for a very long while, just breathing against Louis, memorizing the feel of every contour of him over and over again. It seemed Lestat would fall asleep and resume the nap Louis had interrupted, but then he spoke again. "How would you have yourself be to me?" he asked, returning to Louis's question.

Louis was not expecting this question. Of course, he had an answer, but part of him was embarrassed by it. He knew that Lestat would ridicule it, calling it another of his romanticisms. "I would like to be your husband," he muttered, barely audible.

It felt like Lestat's heart stopped. And maybe it actually did for a moment. On the surface, it was such a meaningless thing to say, but coming from Louis, it made a world of difference. There was so much else unspoken beneath it that turned all their years together on end and shook them out until they were exhausted.

His fingers against Louis's chest curled just slightly into the fabric as if to make sure he was really there. His eyelashes moved against Louis's neck, and Lestat finally remembered to breathe. "I like that," he said simply, stupidly. But it was the innocent truth.

Louis had expected to be mocked. He’d mentally braced himself for Lestat's wide smile and haughty laugh. But it didn't come. What surprised him more was the reaction he actually got. "Really?" he asked, unable to conceal the disbelief in his tone.

Lestat shifted back to prop himself up to look at Louis again, though his eyes were a little glazed with his weariness. He frowned, his fingers lightly stroking back strands of Louis's hair from the edges of his face as he spoke softly, "I know I tend to fall in love with every new friend I meet, and I've made more fledglings than any other vampire here, but you're different, Louis... I wish you could see that."

Louis scanned Lestat's features as if searching for the lie or the joke. But to his surprise, he could not find one. In its place, he saw vulnerability and genuineness. "I do also," he replied. "I worry that you prefer others to me. That you made David to get rid of me."

"Hmmm." The ghost of a smile touched Lestat's lips as he studied Louis. "So you would be my husband? To end such worries?" He tilted his head a little, his fingertips against Louis's hair slowing, but not stilling completely. "My companion, my partner, my equal, my consort, my husband... only you, Louis."

He nodded. "Yes Lestat," he said, though his tone was sheepish as if he were waiting for a punch line. He let out a soft sigh, his muscles relaxing under Lestat's touch. "I love you," he whispered. He hadn't meant to say it then, but his self-control had been stolen by those soft touches.

Warmth blossomed in Lestat's chest, and he hadn't realized how cold it had been for so long until it did. "My heart is yours," he said just as softly as Louis's whisper.

Louis blushed. "I truly hope so," he said, unable to hide his own joy.

Tilting his face down, Lestat pressed a tender kiss to the corner of Louis's lips. Closing his eyes, he sighed, but a moment later, he was seized with an impulse that almost frightened him. "Let's run away together," he whispered.

"That is a terrible idea," he said. "Another one of your impulses that will lead to consequences." He paused. "I propose we take it down a bit and maybe share an apartment...maybe a room?"

Louis calling the idea terrible just made Lestat all the more interested in it, suddenly feeling the first stirrings of excitement he'd felt in a long time. And he was about ready to insist, to say damn the consequences, let's go to Bangkok. But then he was effectively distracted by the next thing Louis suggested. "A room?" He'd never known Louis to not want his own private space, as much as Lestat invaded it anyway, but he was interested. He tilted his head to glance aside, considering the space they were in now. "This room?"

"I...don't see why not. So long as you don't ruin the décor," he teased. Asking Lestat to move in might have been Louis’s own impulsiveness. "It's large enough for two."

The room's closets certainly weren't large enough for Lestat's wardrobe which already filled all of his closets in his own apartment just upstairs. But he could just as easily keep such things up there and still spend his time in this room with Louis. "It would be absolutely impossible for me to ruin this decor..." It could only be improved.

Louis raised a brow. "If anyone is capable of such a feat, it is you" he countered. He was rather fond of his decor. 

Turning his face back to Louis, he smiled at him just faintly. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather run away together?"

"I am sure it will be a bad idea" Louis restated. He liked the idea of escaping all this, but he also was well aware of the consequences. Not that consequences ever stopped Lestat. His argument was interrupted then as Lestat kissed him slowly, as if to try to entice him into the idea. Louis eagerly returned it.

Lestat shifted back just the barest minimum it took to talk. "Yes, it's a wretchedly, wickedly terrible idea. Let's do it." He kissed Louis again, long and slow. "Right now. I'll take you anywhere you want to go, Louis, my husband. We'll start over. Just us."

"As tempting as that sounds, I cannot in good conscience encourage your rebellion." he muttered into the kiss. "I do not doubt we could be anywhere in the world in the blink of an eye. But we have responsibility."

Lestat sighed heavily and shifted down, burying his face against Louis's chest. He tried not to take the refusal personally. It was a ridiculous impulse to begin with. But it could have made them so happy.... _Rebellion_. What an odd way to phrase it. Who would Lestat be rebelling against, other than himself? Although, perhaps there was more insight and truth to that notion than there seemed... "What if I don't give you a choice?" he asked, muffled by Louis's clothes. "What if I just whisk you away?"

Louis studied Lestat, trying to discern the meaning behind his eyes. Again, he wished for the mind gift to work between them. "I would be very cross with you. I hope you'd value my autonomy enough not to do such a thing," he countered, though this was a lie. Louis very much liked a romantic gesture.

"God damn it, I do," Lestat muttered, defeated for the moment. He kept his face tucked down as he thought for another minute and then, with a sigh, he rolled over onto his back so he was lying next to Louis, staring up at the bed's canopy. His hand moved to find Louis's, his fingers lacing with his. "What if I ran away, then, hm?" he asked, not sounding serious at all, as if looking for a loop hole. "Would you chase me this time?"

Louis took Lestat's hand, his gaze remaining fixed upon his husband. "You know I'd let you go. I'd mourn you greatly though," he teased. "Besides, you'll return on your own volition. You always do."

A small frown tugged at Lestat's lips, his eyes remaining up on the brocaded hangings above the bed. "Yes," he sighed. "I suppose I do." His fingers tightened against Louis's. He was still for a silent moment and then turned abruptly toward him again. "Why do you bring all this up?" he asked softly. "What is it you really want from me that you don't already have?" He sounded genuinely interested, almost a little desperate in a quiet way.

 _Husband_ was such a silly, meaningless word to their kind. But clearly it meant something to Louis. Something different than they’d ever shared before, even though Lestat considered them bonded beyond all others. Something more than sharing a room. "Would you have me reject all other lovers?" he asked. All those other lovers Lestat didn’t even have.

Louis ran his thumb over the back of Lestat's hand. Again, Louis was not prepared for this question. It was times like these where he feared that Lestat could actually read his mind and that he purposefully brought up the hardest questions to answer. "No, that's not it," he said almost defensively. But his own expression had an uncertainty. "That would be hypocritical of me. No?" He chuckled, but there wasn't any humor in it. "I wish I could tell you why. Maybe, despite everything, I am insecure." He gave the most truthful answer he knew how despite it not feeling like enough. He shifted so that now he was on his side.

Lestat almost wished Louis had said yes, simply because it was something Lestat could have _done_. An action, a solution. And doing something would have felt so productive. But such simple answers would be ultimately meaningless, wouldn't they? When what ran between himself and Louis was so much more twisted around than all that.

He drew Louis's hand up between them and brushed his lips over the fingers that folded through his own. "I'd give you anything you asked, you know," he said as he studied him. That's what was different between them now compared to the past. "I love you, Louis. I love you...love you more than...more than _myself_."

Louis was not one to give simple answers for anything. Complexity was woven into the fibers of his being which unfortunately made matters such as this more difficult. Of course having Lestat only love him would make things easier, and Louis would be lying if he said he didn't want that. But he also knew it would be an impossible ask, like telling an eagle not to fly.

Louis used his free hand to caress Lestat's cheek. "I know. And it's a very dangerous power you've granted me." He bit his lip. "In those early years, I might have begged you to jump in the fire. But now, things are different. You've stolen my heart, and I don't know how to reconcile these feelings."

Lestat smiled a little, amused, but there was a sadness in his eyes. He kissed Louis's fingers and put his other hand against his waist. "They are so very different... But I do miss those years, sometimes. When it really was just us."

Louis relaxed in response to the touch. One gentle touch from his maker was enough to put his mind at ease. Part of him hated Lestat for having such an effect on him after everything they'd been through. But perhaps hate wasn't the right word. "Do you? I can easily torch this place and run away from you. I can curse your name, scatter your ashes in the bayou and damn you to hell," he replied, a strange intensity built in his voice as he spoke.

Nostalgia wasn't the word for what Lestat had been feeling lately, but a bit of it touched him now as he remembered what Louis had _actually_ begged him for back their old days, which was simply for Lestat never to leave him despite all their problems. "I don't believe there's any danger in love," he said wistfully. "Not true danger."

"Then you're the fool. Love is the most dangerous game."

Reasonably, Lestat knew Louis wasn't being serious. And yet, the words struck him deeply, singed his heart in a way he immediately attempted to conceal. "Yes," he said, forcing a smile to drive back the burning that threatened to rise behind his eyes. "I am the greatest fool of all. I'm sure I've always known that."

Louis’s intensity dissipated as quickly as it was brought on. "I have. But you're my fool," he said. "And now I could never do such things. Even if you asked me to." He leaned forward and pressed his lips against Lestat's.

Lestat returned the kiss immediately, grateful to lose himself in it. He closed his eyes tightly, keeping them that way to fight back any threat of tears. Releasing Louis's hand, he slid his arm under him and pulled Louis close against him again, tangling himself thoroughly up in him. _Anything_... anything at all to drive away the threatening despair. To forget that he was still convinced Louis meant to leave him any night now.

Louis pressed closer but broke the kiss. He had about a hundred questions on his mind but had difficulty settling on one. "How is David?" he inquired.

Lestat's mind was still spinning from the kiss so that it took him a long moment to really hear Louis's question. He blinked a little to clear his thoughts as he recalled how oddly David had reacted last night when Lestat had asked him to help with his passwords. "I don't know," he said softly, reluctantly. His gaze drifted from Louis to fix on nothing in particular. "He seems tense…like he wants to bait me. But to what end, I don't know…" But why was Louis asking? From David's account, Louis had been spending more time with him than Lestat…

Louis'd brow furrowed as he watched his maker's expression shift. "What do you mean bait you?" he inquired, thinking back to his own night with David. His cheeks turned light pink in response to the memory. Now he was grateful that Letstat could not read his mind. "He does seem different, doesn't he," he agreed. This change of subject only served to keep attention off himself, though Louis knew this wouldn't last long.

"It's as if he wants to make me angry," Lestat said, his tone distant, not sounding as if he could have the energy to be angry with anyone at all. "Although I am not sure that it is a conscious desire..." He felt the warmth in Louis's cheeks before he noticed the change in color, but it drew his gaze back to his face. He smiled a little, giving him a knowing look. "Do you have an idea why?" Since Louis was the one who brought it up, he hoped that's what he was getting at. Lestat would love to have this particular mystery resolved.

"I unfortunately do not. Although I can make an assumption," he said, knowing full well that assumptions could be dangerous also. "It might be a better idea to talk about it," he added in attempt to settle this internal debate. "It would give us a definite answer rather than relying on conjecture."

"Mmm, yes," Lestat said, tilting his face enough to brush his lips against one of Louis's lightly flushed cheeks. "You can ask him about it next time he takes you to bed." He was only half serious. He'd ask David himself if he saw him first. But he said it anyway just to get a reaction out of Louis. He was curious about Louis's assumption, but not enough to press him on it now.

Louis squirmed uncomfortably. He never told Lestat about this. But in a moment of clarity, he realized David must have. "Or you could watch and ascertain the information that way," he retorted in an equal attempt to get a reaction from Lestat.

Lestat was tempted to tell Louis exactly what David had said, but he honestly hated the idea of embarrassing Louis in any real way. It did anger him that David had crossed that line with the way he spoke, even though Lestat hadn't acted on it and didn't intend to. Besides, Louis was already squirming enough for his liking.

Lestat gave him a faint smirk in reply, not at all allowing himself to seem shocked. "Oh, is that an invitation?"

Louis was not expecting Lestat to take the bait in this way. He swallowed thickly. "Well..." He let he words trail off. "If you want. Though I don't understand why you would want to."

Lestat laughed softly, enjoying the reaction he'd achieved. He brought his hand up to brush a curl of black hair over Louis's ear with his thumb. "Of course you don't," he said, not at all believing Louis, but willing to allow the lie to stand for the sake of frustrating him further.

That was a sound Louis knew well, although it wasn't the haughty laughter that he usually expected when Lestat was teasing him. "I don't go about bringing up your trysts," he retorted, though there was no malice in his voice.

"Hmmmm." Lestat studied Louis for a moment, trying to determine if he weas really bothered. After all, he was the one who had brought up David in the first place. If David was on Louis's mind while he was in bed with Lestat, he figured he ought know why, if anything. He smiled at Louis in wistful, but fond way and then kissed the bridge of his nose softly as if to agree with him and apologize.

It worked, and neither of them said another word about David for the rest of the night.

That was a sound Louis knew well, although it wasn't the haughty laughter that he usually expected when Lestat was teasing him. "I don't go about bringing up your trysts," he retorted, though there was no malice in his voice.

"Hmmmm." Lestat studied Louis for a moment, trying to determine if he weas really bothered. After all, he was the one who had brought up David in the first place. If David was on Louis's mind while he was in bed with Lestat, he figured he ought know why, if anything. He smiled at Louis in wistful but fond way and then kissed the bridge of his nose softly as if to agree with him and apologize.

It worked, and neither of them said another word about David for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hold on to your hats, some new drama is getting underway next chapter!


	11. Temper Temper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David and Daniel get to know each other a little better, but the former superior general is having trouble controlling his temper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've added a content warning to this fic because this chapter gets into Rape/Non-Con territory. But fwiw, it's of the vampire kind, not the mortal kind.

David was spread out at his usual table in the library, memorizing all of Lestat’s accounts and passwords from the little leather-bound book he’d given David. This man had accounts in every bank of the world. It was no wonder he couldn’t keep track of everything anymore. There had to be a better system for this. He still had Lestat’s iPhone he left on the roof last night. If David could just get it unlocked, he could start making changes.

Meanwhile, Daniel had long since claimed another alcove in the library as his own, dark and quiet and near an outlet for his laptop, a soft lamp for his books. It had been a welcome escape for him recently, with Armand still recovering and everyone so on edge. He’d been vaguely aware of a rift arising between the usual bouts of court drama and gossip, but he’d tried to remove himself from it, deal with it if he had to.

But the sound of David tapping away at a screen and cursing to himself under his breath was enough of a change after a while to draw Daniel slowly from his shell. “Tech problems?” he asked in as loud a voice as he dared in a library.

David was startled slightly. He honestly hadn’t noticed Daniel there in the library with him. He looked up from the phone and across the room at him. “I simply don’t understand iPhones. Do you have an iPhone? I prefer Android.”

Daniel gave a gust of breath through his nose to pass as a laugh; he wanted to make a jab about old people and tech, but he was acutely aware these days of his “baby boomer” status and couldn’t afford to throw stones. “iPones? Yeah, operating systems aren’t so foreign from each other as people think, if they aren’t set against learning it.” A bit cheeky, maybe, but tech was his element. “You lock yourself out of a new phone already?”

David refrained from rolling his eyes. “I’m a quick learner, believe it not. And Daniel, age is very twisted in my world. I’m about 100 in human years and only about 20 in vampire.” He looked back to the phone and then offered it to Daniel. He had this book of passwords and was using every combination he could find to try to unlock it. “This is not my phone.”

Daniel paused with the phone in his hand but not yet out of David’s. “...It’s not?” he wanted to know, tipping his head with his question, a spare, messy lock of hair falling obnoxiously into his eye. Shaking it back he added, “So...who’s is it?”

David let go of the phone. He smiled slowly at Daniel and spoke softly. “Why? Do you suppose I came across it in some nefarious way?”

“Have you met my maker?” Daniel asked with a deadpan seriousness. “I was _come across in a nefarious way_ , forgive my paranoia.” He smiled as they shared a laugh, but he was absolutely serious again immediately after. “No for real, whose phone is this?”

David laughed and gestured for Daniel to sit at the table with him. “This is Lestat’s phone. I am the keeper of the royal phone now.” He didn’t talk about how Lestat had come to leave it on the rooftop. Daniel didn’t need that information. “I simply need it unlocked. I have to check these passwords and accounts to make sure they are all accurate.”

Cautiously Daniel took the sleepinh device into his palm, checking the error message on the screen. He gave David one last skeptical look. “Ok...you’re sure? Cause I can help you, but I’m also not in any mood to get tried for treason. I don’t think my bloodline can save my ass there.”

David smiled and remained silent. Then let Daniel off the hook. “I’m sure I have permission. I’m also sure that at least Marius could defend you from a treason charge.”

“Yeah I’m Mar’s favorite grandkid,” he said with the confidence of one who wasn’t kidding behind his joke. “Ok, I’ll make you a deal, Mr. Talbot. I know how to get this open and reset just about any password you need, but I’ll only do it with two conditions.”

David sat back in his chair. This little whippersnapper was going to place conditions on this? He considered the book of passwords again. It would be faster just to let him do this though. “And these conditions are?”

“One,” Daniel said soberly, a hard look to his violet eyes, “don’t tell anyone it was me that did it, ok? I am not interested in either having a job in court as the royal tech wizard or some shit, and I also don’t wanna give anyone a reason to not trust me.”

David felt this was an odd condition. “Fine. I will not share news of your talents with anyone. Seems a waste though. And the second condition?”

“I want intel on any of the good shit you find. I have an ongoing bet with Armand on Lestat’s Amazon shopping habits.”

David raised a brow as he considered this. “Define ‘good shit’.” He would make no agreement until particulars were laid out.

“Nothing dangerous or anything,” Daniel dismissed, examining the case on the phone, wondering if these were sapphires or some fancier gem he only called a sapphire because it was blue. “Just tell me if he’s ever bought from Bad Dragon or ordered a custom vampire bat pajama set it anything weird.”

“Well, I don’t know what a Bad Dragon is, and he doesn’t wear pajamas. I will agree to this condition as well.” He gestured to the phone. “So get going, please.”

Rolling his eyes and muttering something about old men (despite technically being one himself in human age) Daniel grabbed his laptop and asked for the charging cord. “...So Lestat really just locked himself out of his accounts, huh? Maintenance, you said?” He plugged the phone in to the USB port while eyeing David with a look he knew was obviously faux-casual.

David crossed one leg over the other and stretched out in his chair, watching Daniel work. “I locked myself out of Lestat’s phone. Lestat chose to forgo memorizing his own account names and passwords and handed it off to me.” David stared at the stupid little book in front of him on the table. “The idiot.”

“Uh huh...” Daniel said, his tone doubtful. “This have anything to do with why he’s been acting like he’s the one who caught rabies?”

David didn’t know how to answer that. “You’ve noticed that? He’s being odd, isn’t he?” He watched Daniel more closely, observing his violet eyes and he hair that fell into them.

“I read people well. Better than others expect,” he said offhandedly, as he clicked through something on his laptop. The iPhone screen blinked on, off, and on again, this time displaying the unlocked background photo of Louis with his nose in his favorite volume of Sherlock Holmes. “...Lestat’s not rabid right?”

David shook his head. “He’s not rabid.” David took the phone from Daniel and rolled his eyes at the background photo. “Predictable,” he muttered. He swiped down and saw there were easily over 800 unread emails. He sighed heavily. “I suppose I’m in for a long night.” He glanced up at Daniel. “Thank you.”

Daniel shrugged, closing his laptop but not leaving yet. “...He’s ok, though, right? Lestat? You sure he isn’t sick? He’s...it’s just...seeing Armand and Louis like that kinda...fucks you up, you know?”

David looked up from the phone, hearing the concern in Daniel’s voice. “He’s fine. He’s just a little stressed from the court responsibilities. Heavy is the head that wears the crown and all that.” He reached across the table and placed a hand on Daniel’s arm. “Are you alright?”

Daniel waved away the concern, scooting his chair back a little to gather his things. He always hoped such questions were simply a matter of kindness and concern, but with two published books talking about his little respite away from sanity, he was quick to want to reassure people he was fine.

“Totally, just stress like everyone else...I live in that back alcove over there,” he said, pointing over his shoulder, “should you need me again. Or should you find anything fun.”

David watched Daniel make a hasty retreat. “Nice avoidance,” he muttered. He looked at the phone in his hands and scanned through a few emails from various vampires or Lestat’s lawyers and other mortal assistants. He looked in the photos folder and found far too many dog pictures. Not a single selfie, which was strange to David, considering the size of Lestat’s ego. There were voice-mails, and he listened to a few of them, finding the passcode for the voice mail in the book Lestat had given him. Mostly angry from Notker or event planners disappointed by a year’s worth of events Lestat had cancelled.  
  
By time he got to the browser tabs, David had just about had enough. But he checked the tabs and found page after page of sites about New Zealand. Anything and everything about it. And a few about the Bermuda Triangle, and blue holes. That’s when David had enough crazy and turned the phone off. He yelled over to Daniel, “He likes dogs. Just hundreds of dog photos.” He had to give Daniel something to pay him back for unlocking the phone.

David stood gathered the little book and the phone and prepared to leave. On his way out, he stopped at Daniel’s little area of the library and watched him for a moment. Thinking.

Headphones in and zoned out reading an article about a body found floating in an acidic lake, sating a morbid curiosity he’d developed somewhere after gaining a dead boyfriend, it took Daniel a moment to realize he was being watched. “Find his nude selfies, Davey?”

David scowled at the question. “No. He has absolutely no selfies, and that in itself is alarming to me.” David placed a hand on the back of one of the chairs at Daniel’s table and considered his next words before continuing. “I’ve wanted to let you know for some time, Daniel, that I searched for you. After _Interview_ was published, I had investigators all over searching for you. And when we found you, our attempts to contact you were blocked. I would have brought you into the order. I would have helped you. I want you to know that.”

Daniel sat still, the music from the earbuds around his neck distant and tinny. He peered at David evenly, having such vivid flashes to those early years, ‘74, ‘75, how quickly he was caught up in Armand’s web. Ten damn days it had taken him to get to New Orleans, and then it was over. Well...it was over the night he met Louis in that bar. Daniel didn’t believe in fate, but he knew you couldn’t stop a damned train.

“...In another life, I think, I would have enjoyed being in the Talamasca,” he managed in a thin voice, picturing David as the regal, mature man he had once been. “I would have done well there, I think, and there was no unknowing what I knew.”

David nodded a bit. “Well, good evening. I’ll tell you if I find anything more interesting than dogs on Lestat’s phone.” He smiled at Daniel and left.

\------------------------------

The next night, Daniel still couldn’t stop thinking about what David had told him. He knew he could always find David in the library. It was so large and his own corner so remote that they could share the space without needing to speak at all, but tonight Daniel wanted to speak. He’d been thinking about David’s words clear through until the sun took him, and he awoke with it on his mind. True to form, he found David with his notebook and that iPhone plugged in to charge.

“Can I bother you for some time?” Daniel asked quietly, hesitating to set down his laptop bag.

David looked up from the book of Lestat’s accounts which he’d been memorizing. Daniel was there again at his table. “Please,” he said, gesturing to one of the seats. “I can use a break.”

Daniel hooked a foot around the leg of the chair to pull it out and get seated. He fiddled with his laptop, plugging it in and adjusting it just so. Why he was nervous, he couldn’t say, but his brain still buzzed about, ah... “...So about last night.”

David was still, and watched Daniel set up as if he was preparing to interview him or something. He tilted his head a little and tried to make eye-contact with Daniel, but he seemed nervous. What could this possibly be? “Yes? Last night? You mean the dog photos on Lestat’s phone? Did you want to see them?” He reached over to grab the phone and turn it on.

“...I mean, yeah, but that’s not what I meant.” Freshly hunted, he felt blood rise to his face, and readjusted his glasses; he liked to say the tinted frames were just for the light and to hide his eyes, but honestly he’d never got over seeing his own face without glasses. “About...about the Talamasca, I mean.”

“Ah, the Talamasca, that’s what this is.” David placed the phone back down. “Why are you being nervous?” He folded his hands on the table before him and enjoyed the blush in Daniel’s cheeks and the smell of blood still on him.

“I’m just still getting used to being around so many people all the time and being in such a big place, after so long with just Marius and then my years alone,” he said. “We went out plenty, especially once I was getting better, but he was still my....he...just adjusting is all,” he said, fidgeting in a way surely unbecoming of a vampire. “But yeah I...I had no idea you...that the Talamasca looked for me. I mean...I read Lestat’s books, all of them. I guess it just didn’t hit...”

David wondered what Daniel was trying to say about Marius. Were they lovers? He found this rather amusing, that Daniel was nervous around the topic. He dismissed it and focused on the Talamasca topic instead. “So that answers my question. It was not you evading us, it was Armand blocking us. Do you feel angry at him for that at all?”

“Do you feel any anger at Lestat for turning you against your will?” Daniel turned the question immediately, raising an eyebrow curiously behind his glasses.

David froze, keeping a straight face. That was a very sore topic for him. He narrowed his eyes at Daniel, speaking softly. “Nice.”

Daniel shrugged, a little pleased to be able to go toe to verbal toe with another vampire still. “...I felt anger. That’s different from feeling anger.” He shrugged, opening his email and skimming for anything interesting. “Ten years with Armand was a nightmare I wouldn’t give back for anything. Call it Stolkholm maybe, I dunno...pretty sure I’d be human still if the Talamasca had found me, and I didn’t want that.”

David thought about Daniel’s words. “I think I understand that Stolkholm reference. Lestat stalked me for about five years, though he didn’t torment me quite the same. Just wanted a therapist to sit and listen to him.” David smiled at Daniel. “I think we would have used your investigative skills, if we had gotten to you first. You never know, you may have caught the eye of some other vampire during your time with us, and been brought over that way. Seems to be a trend in the Talamasca.”

“I can’t imagine being anyone but Armand’s,” Daniel said quietly, watching David struggle to make out another odd password. “I mean, could you imagine if you were Seth’s, for example? Having to call Fareed brother?”

David tapped on the tiny phone keyboard, trying to get into yet another of Lestat’s bank accounts with a very random password that was just jumbled letters and numbers. He’d obviously just pounded on the keyboard to create this one. David was changing all the passwords to things he himself could remember easily.

He thought about Daniel’s question seriously for a minute. “I suppose I wouldn’t know any better. In that situation, I would only know Seth as maker and Fareed as brother.” He looked at Daniel. “Another question for you. Do you wish you had any siblings? I have noticed that in many cases siblings in this...vampire world, are exceptionally bonded. Bianca and Pandora, myself and Louis, several others I could mention but won’t bore you with.”

“Oh god no, can you imagine adding another nut to this limb of the de Romanus family tree?” And Daniel let out a bark of real, actual laughter, despite the signs reminding them they were in a library. “Armand is too obsessive to spread his love well among another. No, thank you. I’m happy being his only child!”

“What about children? Do you think you will make any fledglings of your own some day?” David was always fascinated with these topics and asked most other vampires these sorts of questions when he met them.

“My initial reaction is fuck no,” Daniel began, chewing on the end of a fingernail, a habit Armand despised. “But I’m only just now old enough to get issues of AARP. Who knows what I’ll want in 500 years? What about you?”

“I think so. In the future, of course. I think I would be a good mentor. Seth-like, perhaps.” He smiled. He managed to change another password and wrote the new one down in the book. “Do you see your mortal family at all? You know, check up on them from a distance?”

“You’d be a good sire,” he nodded. “You’re good to talk to, you’d probably train someone up right for it.” As for the second part, he shrugged, staring at his screen again. “I had a brother and sister, growing up, both older though. They’re still alive, they’re great grandparents now. I send a lot of my money there; my own, from the book. But I don’t keep up with them really. Not anymore.”

David opened Lestat’s photos app and scanned through all the dog pictures. Dogs on walks with owners, stray dogs in alleys and parks, dogs with tongues lolling out and smiling at the camera for him. Then David found a folder labeled “Louis” and he opened it. Louis reading books, Louis watching the fire in the hearth, Louis looking at someone else off camera. Louis unware he was being photographed in every one. They were all lovely photos, because it was not possible for Louis to photograph badly. David clicked a few and sent them to his own phone.

David glanced over at Daniel on his laptop. “What are you typing over there?”

“I’m ah… I’m throwing around some ideas for a follow up for _Interview_. My own follow up. None of this adventuring nonsense or changing bodies or witches. Just a nice collection of us for us... And what do you keep sending to yourself over there?”

David laughed a little. “Re-Interviewing the Vampires?” He pushed the phone over to Daniel with the photos folder open. “I was sending myself a few of his better ones.”

Daniel slid the phone closer, letting out a near snort of laughter at the entire folder of this on Lestat’s phone. “Why am I not surprised?” he said, shaking his head. “And in a way, sure. I would love to catch up with Louis. I haven’t gotten to have a real talk to him since the Night Island... Would you be willing to speak of the Talamasca? Or at least your view of our kind through it?”

“My view of vampires when I was _in_ the Talamasca?” David tilted his head a bit. “Is that the question?” David tried to remember his mortal self and the Talamasca. It was so clouded to him now. So cut off from what he was now. “Vampires were the reason the Talamaca existed. That was the central research. You know, there are other older members here in the court who could answer things for you like this? The founders even.”

“Yes but it’s you who has become so deeply entrenched,” Daniel argued earnestly. “The studious scholar who hunted down the interviewer only to become the child of the brat prince himself! It’s poetic don’t you think?”

“Well, poetic is a bit much, but I understand your point.” As David watched Daniel look through the phone, he wondered when Lestat was going to notice it was gone. “I will try and answer questions if you have specific ones, of course.” He smiled warmly at Daniel.

“Well once upon a time, I fancied myself a wannabe reporter.” Daniel shrugged. “Used to do a little local radio bit on my campus, reached maybe thirty stoners on a good night. That’s why I spoke to Louis in the first place, you know. You have always had gifts, you were destined for something like the Talamasca. Me? I stumbled my way here in a god damned bar.”

“Well, each of us captured the attention of a vampire in some way or another. Bars seem to be popular though. Lestat found found Louis in a bar too. And why did you approach Louis, exactly? Or did he approach you first?”

Daniel grinned, having to turn his eyes away. “It was a god damned queer bar, and I just thought he was hot, man. It was the mid-70s, I was young and newly on my own and come on, it’s _Louis_. And then he starts in on his child of the night shtick, and I’m just like, ok, he’s a little crazy. Crazy is cute!”

David laughed. “I’m trying to picture it. I suppose you got more than what you were after. When did you really start to understand his story was real?”

“Well you can imagine I didn’t believe a word of it to start,” Daniel said easily, handing the phone back to David after flipping through. “I mean how long did it take you to believe your first paranormal experience? Also, I might not have paid super close attention for first twenty minutes or so. I was too busy staring. “

David nodded in understanding. “Yes, I stared for the first twenty minutes after I first met Louis too.” He tried to think of his first paranormal experience. “I honestly don’t recall my first paranormal experience. I was essentially seeing spirits from the cradle.”

“That little?” Honestly, for Daniel, he was only just accepting that ghosts existed, let alone that they could be so closely interwoven with their own kind. “Must have scared the shit out of your parents growing up, huh?”

David laughed a little. “No. No, not really. My mother was one of those women who loved all things mysterious. You know, went to fortune tellers and had her cards read and all that. In fact she was the one who called the Talamasca in on me; but she didn’t even do that until much later in my life. When I was little, I mostly just saw the spirits but didn’t interact with them a lot. Rather like now. I see them now still, but I don’t interact anymore.” David glanced over Daniel’s shoulder to the far corner of the library. “There is one over there, actually. Hanging out by the doorway.”

Daniel, though having no powers of his own to see such things, turned sharply to look over his shoulder. Nothing, of course. He saw nothing. “Is it...are they...conscious? Like the spirits who sit at council?”

“No. They are weak spirits. They don’t know they are dead and can’t find their way to the other side...wherever that is. I can’t help them, because I don’t know either.” David shrugged a little. “I can ignore them most of the time.” He tried to reassure Daniel, “Don’t worry. They are harmless.”

Was it that obvious that Daniel was unnerved? He couldn’t help it. He’d grown up watching The Exorcist and Poltergeist and other spooky movies. He’d seen Armand’s gaze grow distant before as he watched something or someone only he could see. “Not worried,” he grumbled, sinking down in his seat a little.

David smiled again at Daniel. “Do you know much about New Zealand?”

“...It’s like Australia, but the snails don’t want to kill you, right?”

David scowled and sighed a bit. He thought for a moment, then reached suddenly across the table and grabbed Daniel by the collar and held him in a strong grip. He considered taking blood from him, but then thought better of it and let him go.

What had come over him?

He stood, gathered up the phone and book. “I suddenly feel a need to see Lestat. Good evening, Daniel.”

Daniel could only stare after him in shock as David left the library.

But Lestat was nowhere to be found. Eventually, David gave up the search and went out to hunt. Upon his return, he found a comfortable chair in the great hall and sat down to watch the younger vampires as they milled about. There were a few trying to play music, and failing terribly. He felt rather tired now and a little lightheaded due to whatever pharmaceutical was in his victim’s blood.

“We seem to be running into one another more often than usual, David.” Armand ‘s voice came from behind him. He laid a hand gracefully upon David’s shoulder. If there was one thing Armand was grateful for as a blood drinker, it was the ability to sneak up on others unnoticed and the childlike joy it brought to scare the wits out of them. “How is that temper of yours now?”

David startled slightly, but the mellow feeling from the blood soothed the feeling immediately. He looked up at the intruder. “Oh, hello, Armand. The temper has been tamed with blood for now. How are you doing tonight?”

Armand looked David over almost critically before raising a brow. “More than just blood, by the looks of it. I am well, almost back to myself again.” He settled in a nearby chair and folded his arms.

David smiled then laughed a little. “Yes, something else. You never know what you’ll get, do you?” He rested his head against one hand, arm propped on the arm of the chair and watched Armand. “I had a long conversation with your offspring in the library earlier.”

“Oh? What has he said this time?” Armand murmured, voice a mix between fondness and exasperation. “Daniel quite often doesn’t know when to silence himself or who to toy with. It’s a trait of his I simultaneously loathe and adore.”

“He was talkative and asked a lot of questions. He wanted to know about the Talamasca. You know, now that you mention it, he was rather flippant a few times.” David winced at the bad music being played across the hall.

Ah, the Talamasca. They’d had an interest in Daniel way back when, when Armand wanted Daniel to himself. It was not one of his proudest moments, blocking them from Daniel, but it was long done now, and there was nothing for it. “He is very talkative. Particularly when nervous. He’s like some sort of leaking faucet when he’s nervous. I hope he did not say anything too offensive?”

David laughed. “Nothing too terrible. He did ask at one point how I felt about Lestat making me against my will. Which I found rather a sharp question.”

Armand raised a brow. He felt a small spark of pride in Daniel at this. It was an extremely bold question, and with the blood that coursed through David’s veins, there was an even more pressing danger. He was a strong vampire, and his fledgling had tested him. “I do hope that didn’t upset you.” A lie. “What else did you talk about?”

In his semi-drugged state, David saw some interesting light play around the hall and followed it with his eyes. Oh, Armand was still there. He focused again. “Seems like, as a parent, you would maybe teach him some manners,” he muttered. “He asked about my life. He’s thinking about writing things down again, I suppose.” David watched Armand again. He was very nicely dressed tonight, and his hair was pretty.

Armand laughed openly, eyes turned to David as they sparkled with amusement. “I’d hardly consider myself a parent. Though I am sorry if my born and bred modern day American boy doesn’t quite live up to your Eaton standards of etiquette,” he shot. The mirth left him as he more fully registered the implications of David’s words. He would have pressed further, but he noticed an all too familiar look in David’s eye of one who stares excessively and likes what he sees—a most peculiar thing for David. “Are you all right?”

David realized suddenly that he was slumping down in the chair and sat up properly. “I’ll be fine. Something was in the blood, is all.” He rubbed his eyes and tried to be more focused. “I could teach him manners, if you like,” David suggested.

Armand’s eyes flashed with indignation at the thought. He detested David’s presumptuous nature, this air of superiority his seemed to carry. But he calmed himself for now. “I assure you, David, Daniel will have no interest in it. And I think he is perfectly fine as he is. Truly, if he said something to anger you, I will speak to him. But Daniel is his own man and will speak as he wishes.”

David felt ashamed of himself suddenly. He didn’t know why he did this sort of thing lately. This wasn’t just the drugs in his system. He sighed and looked away from Armand. Where the hell was Lestat? He missed him achingly suddenly. “I’ve upset you. I’m sorry. I’m not myself lately.” David looked back at Armand. “Have you seen Lestat around?”

“I’m surprised as Lestat’s fledgling you don’t revel in...what was it you would say in Britain?...pissing me off,” Armand said with an edge to his voice as his anger calmed, though he looked the very picture of a petulant child with his mouth formed into an almost pout. “But no. I’ve not seen him since the other night when we three were together in the library. And the last time I was with him before that, he was saying something about New Zealand. Being terribly vague about it all.”

“Do you _want_ me to piss you off?” David glared. “I’m beginning to see why Marius couldn’t handle you.” He didn’t like that Armand knew Lestat was being strange about New Zealand. “What do you know about New Zealand? Have you been there?”

Armand bristled. He hadn’t come to David to be attacked. Perhaps he shouldn’t have come at all. “I am not in need of handling. And if you are aiming to anger me, you are succeeding.” He spoke with warning, ignoring David’s query. What did he care for New Zealand or what Lestat had to say about it?

Maybe it was the drugged blood in his veins, or maybe it was just Armand, but David felt suddenly violent towards him. He leaned forward in his chair and snarled, “You are the one riling me, Armand! I would attack you right now if those fledglings weren’t over there witnessing this.” He sat up again, straightening his suit coat, continuing to glare. “Maybe I will teach Daniel some manners after all.”

Armand glowered at David from where he sat, truly incensed now. For a moment, he simply stared, but then he rose from his chair and snaked his arm around David’s wrist. Without warning, and without much effort, he wrenched him from his chair and dragged him into one of the side rooms.

“If you so much as lay a finger on my Daniel I will make you regret being brought forth onto this earth!” he hissed, eyes ablaze with fury as he kicked the door shut behind him.

David viciously hissed at Armand as the door shut behind them. He shook off Armand’s hand from his arm and towered over him threateningly. He spoke in a deep snarl, “Test me, little boy!” He flashed his fangs, eyes flaring, and grabbed Armand by the hair holding him in a vise-like grip.

Armand did not hesitate to strike David hard across the cheek in retaliation, and when David managed to keep his hold, he tore his hand away. He was unfazed at the clump of hair that went with it. “You will learn soon enough, you haughty petulant fool, that I am no little boy. I could tear you to pieces and spit at Lestat’s reprimand!”

David felt blood trickle down his cheek from where Armand had struck him. He dropped the tangle of hair from his fist. He paced the floor a few times, glaring violently at Armand, anger coursing through his veins. This was like the hunt, only a little more exciting because the prey was more difficult. He laughed a little under his breath, then launched suddenly at Armand, grabbing him by the throat, biting into his jugular hard, swallowing in the first draught of blood with a snarl.

Armand tensed and clawed at David savagely. Under different circumstances, perhaps he might enjoy this. But this was audacious, and disgusting. This was a creature he was furious with taking what he wanted, and he was not Marius, and he was not Daniel.

But Armand could not shake him off now, wasn’t physically strong enough. Not physically... He focused his mind on planting an image into David’s head. The image and belief that he was taking from Louis now, he whom David loved so dearly and would never raise a harmful finger to. Armand could do such things, with his mind. And he made David believe that it was Louis struggling so desperately against him to get away.

David groaned against Armand’s throat, taking in the heat of the blood, enjoying the struggle he put up. It was a bit like when he and Lestat did this. But then suddenly Armand was not there; Louis was. And Louis was struggling and begging him to stop. The blood was almost too good to stop though, and the struggle from Louis was... enticing. Still, something about it was wrong.

David felt sick at what he was doing and let Louis go, dropping him to the floor. He blinked several times. Kneeled down to help Louis, to apologize and beg forgiveness over and over. But it was Armand. David glared, tempted to jump him again. “Nice, trick,” he said, blood thick in his voice.

Armand glared up at David with pure venom through the auburn hair in his eyes. He struck David again, harder, and used this opportunity to push him to the floor. He wrenched David’s head to the side and leaned to murmur into his ear, his voice dripping poison. “Don’t you _ever_ underestimate me again. Don’t you _ever_ take from me in that way again. I can make you see Louis and Lestat bloodied and broken and consumed by the sun. I can make you see the chateau and everyone in it in a mountain of flames and make you believe that you were the culprit. I can send you out of your wits with these visions, make you a shell of your former self, too incoherent to even utter my name to those who asked. This was just a taste,” he spat, leaving David abruptly. “Consider it a warning.” And then he was gone.

David wiped Armand’s spit from his face and lay on the floor, calming himself down from the high energy and emotion; memorizing all of Armand’s words. He knew Armand’s powers, of course. He had underestimated them, though. Now he lay still, thinking over it all, remembering the feel of Louis struggling against him and the horror of knowing he might be hurting him. He wanted suddenly to see Louis very badly and make sure he was okay. He also wanted to go back after Armand and do whatever he might need to do to learn that mind power from him.

Eventually David was able to get up and make his way down to the crypts, still shaken and vibrating from the fight. The deep cut Armand had left on his cheek was just now finishing healing. David meant to find an empty place to just lie down and meditate and wait for the sun to come up and put him to sleep. However, when he passed Lestat’s crypt, he heard the familiar heartbeat in there.

David paused, not certain he should interrupt, but it was well past 3:00 AM and ridiculous that Lestat would be still sleeping. He entered the small stone room and walked over to the coffin, finding Lestat lying inside, blond hair spread on the velvet of the pillow. “What are you doing here?” he whispered.

The voice pierced Lestat’s dreams, and for a moment, he thought it part of them... but there was something urgent, something important about the interruption... omething that worried him, that tugged at Lestat’s consciousness and stirred him to finally open his eyes. When he beheld David, he smiled slowly with the lingering effects of sleep, and he lifted his arms to wrap around his beautiful fledgling’s neck, gently pulling him close. “My dear friend,” he whispered affectionately, though his eyes closed as if he’d drift right back off again. But with David so close, the blood scent was unmistakable. “Mmmm... You smell like Armand...”

David buried his face against Lestat, feeling safe in a way he hadn’t known he’d been missing so badly. He was bent over the coffin awkwardly, but that was fine. He had a sudden memory of being a little boy, sent home from the schoolyard after a fight with another boy, cut up and scratched and emotions so high that he burst into tears when his mother took him into her arms. When Lestat mentioned Armand’s name though, he stiffened. He growled involuntarily. “Because I just had an angry tangle with him.”

Lestat blinked in confusion, shaking off the last of his dreamy state, and he shifted to sit up in his coffin to look at David properly. “But why?” he asked, dismayed. No one should be having angry tangles with anyone. Not now. Not anymore. “Are you all right?”

David dropped his head against the side of the coffin. Feeling Lestat’s concern for him tipped something in him, and all the emotions of the past few weeks washed over him. He began to cry there against the coffin. He tried to wrangle it all back in but was unable to. “I don’t know why,” he muttered. “Is Louis okay,” he begged Lestat. “Tell me Louis is okay? I’m sorry if I harmed him.”

Was Lestat still dreaming? He was so confused. He reached for David, but the coffin made it awkward, so he transferred himself out of it in one fluid movement to be beside David instead. Lestat drew him into his arms, wanting only to comfort him, hating seeing him so broken. “David, my love...” These questions shot fear through Lestat. “What have you done?”

He leaned against Lestat and slowly calmed, wiped furiously at the tears. Lestat seemed frightened suddenly, and David realized he’d mixed up the visions with reality again. “No,” he said, stepping back slightly. “I’m sorry. I’m mixed up still. I think he’s fine. It’s not real. I was drinking from him and he was struggling and I let him go though...” David paused, confused again. “No. It was a vision. It was not real, but I felt it.” David sat on the floor of the crypt and tried to make his thoughts clear again.

Lestat pressed his fingertips to his temple as if that would help make sense of all this, but of course it did nothing. He managed to piece together, though, that David did indeed smell like Armand, and not like Louis, at least not that Lestat could tell. And from what he knew of the confusion Armand could instill in his victims, this aligned more with that.

Lestat crouched beside David and took his face in his hands, making him look at him, trying to get him to focus and calm. “One of Armand’s visions?” he asked softly, though he’d already convinced himself of the answer. Slowly, anger began to build in him. What place had Armand to torment David this way? Why would he ever? “What has he done to you?”

David looked through the blood tears at Lestat. “Yes, a vision, but very real.” He was so tired suddenly. “I think I drank some bad blood or something. I have this temper lately. I’m sorry.” He dropped his head against Lestat. “I got angry at Armand because he was just there being Armand. You know?” David just wanted to sleep and be against his maker now. “I have this violent streak, it seems. I think I blame you for it.”

“Then I’m sorry for it,” Lestat whispered with deep sincerity, pulling David close against him, holding him tightly. He leaned back against the base of the stone slab, his hands moving comfortingly over David’s back. “Armand knows better than to make you angry,” he murmured. “What do you need from me?”

David stretched against Lestat, feeling the familiar hands on him and listening to his heartbeat. He murmured against his chest, “Just let me sleep here against you for a while. I’m so tired.”

Although he was deeply troubled, Lestat couldn’t bring himself to argue. Shifting upright, he brought David with him as if they both weighed nothing, and in the blink of an eye, they were in the coffin together, Lestat on his back and David resting against his chest. His hand moved up into David’s hair soothingly. “Sleep,” he whispered, though Lestat did not know if he would be able to again. His mind went out into the castle that rose above them, listening for anything odd or alarming, but there seemed to be nothing...

He tried to listen for Louis’s voice or footstep or even to pick out his heartbeat among the hundreds of others in the building, but Lestat could not. Louis had not spoken to him once since their conversation in his room nights ago. It seemed he was avoiding Lestat completely. Did Louis regret everything he’d said then? Oh, if only Lestat could have convinced him to run away together before Louis ended up going off on his own again… How would Lestat ever survive it?

David felt soothed and relaxed entirely against Lestat. Before he could fall completely asleep, he whispered, “I love you.”

Lestat held David close for hours until he felt him go stiff with the death sleep, then the only thing he did was reach up and close the coffin lid, and an hour later, he was unconscious as well.

When Lestat woke the following sunset, he worked himself out from under David’s unconscious body and left him there comfortably in the coffin. Lestat then left the crypts and the castle entirely and flew off south toward the Mediterranean alone, intending simply to hunt and come right back in time for the nightly court proceedings. However, by the end of that night at dawn, Lestat had still not returned.

Two nights later, still no one had heard from the prince, and David could only curse the iPhone still in his possession.


	12. Down Under

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unrest ripples through the chateau during Lestat's mysterious disappearance. David, in particular, is feeling the strain.

Jesse had been gone from court for some time. After the death of her beloved aunt Maharet, she did not have much desire to be around her own kind. But word was spreading through the vampire world about the goings on at court, and she decided to return to France for a short visit. How long she would remain, she wasn’t sure, but as Jesse walked into one of the parlors, she felt a sense of relief, knowing that she could be herself in this company.

Daniel had taken to wandering. Not…not nearly as bad as when he was ill, but he often found himself meandering the hallways with his music on, just letting his thoughts go along with his feet. At the first sight of red hair, he immediately thought it was Armand, but there was too much of it, too bright— “Fuck, Jesse, when you get here?”

Jesse turned and when she saw Daniel, she smiled. “Just now. Good evening.” She was carrying a heavy leather bag which she set down, and she tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Hello Daniel, it’s been a while. How are you?” She wasn’t sure of the last time she’d seen him.

Daniel let his headphones dangle around his neck, wondering what the etiquette was here. Do they shake hands? Kiss? Bite? He’d seen plenty of various…traditions…and he didn’t really know her, so he just stuck with awkward smile. “I mean, I’m still sane and stable, which is a good change for me, huh? You um. You here visiting or…?”

Jesse could see Daniel was hesitating, though she wasn’t certain why. She had her thoughts veiled and wouldn’t dare read his as it felt like an invasion of privacy. At the mention of his mental condition she was glad she’d chosen not to. “I thought I’d drop by. I’ve been out of touch for a while and wanted to see how everyone’s been.”

“Yeah, shit I mean…uh…you’ve heard right? All the uh. The drama? Like, Lestats not…home…right now…”

She frowned. “I’d heard a few rumors, but nothing concrete. What’s been happening?” Jesse glanced over her shoulder and added, “Perhaps we should sit down?”

“Shit man you have been gone a while.” Daniel tied the cord to his headphones into a knot and stuck them in his pocket, letting Jesse follow him to a comfortable spot in the parlor. “Just usual blood drinker theatrics, you know, Lestat being a drama queen and David being tall dark and mysterious. But what about you? That one bag all you got?”

Jesse nodded. “It’s a visit, I’m not moving in. What about Lestat and David?”

“Oh, you know,” Daniel shrugged, sliding sidelong onto his favorite chair. “New Zealand and dog photos and the whole rabies thing…hold on I think that’s backwards, my brain still scrambles sometimes….yeah! Rabies first, then New Zealand!”

She stared at him for a minute, sitting down across from him. “Perhaps I should have stayed closer to the court. Or maybe called every once in a while.” Though it wasn’t as though she could have helped with the disease outbreak even if she’d been here. Jesse’s education was not in medicine, after all.

“We have fun here.” Daniel shrugged, flipping one leg over the back of the chair, knowing his maker would smack his shin for it. “So what brings you back, sister Jess?”

She tucked her hair behind her ears and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “Rumors and my own curiosity.” Jesse gave Daniel a rueful smile.

David was just passing by the parlor on his way to the library when he heard familiar voices. He knew Daniel was in there, and was unsure about approaching him after the fiasco with Armand. But perhaps Daniel was unaware? When he saw Jesse, however, he had to enter. “Jessica!” He smiled broadly and leaned down to hug her in greeting. “This is a fine surprise.”

“David!” She hugged him back, practically beaming at her old mentor. “It’s good to see you. I am sorry that I haven’t kept in better contact but… You know.” She then looked at Daniel and said, “Daniel has been good enough to catch me up on what’s happened since I was last here.”

“Honestly, I haven’t,” Daniel dismissed with a shrug. “I got as far as rabies and kinda left it. But yeah, after our dear Fareed accidentally let loose that strain of rabies, Armand and Louis had a…not fun time of it. But we all made it out without being bit, so that’s good… Ok, I mean I got bit, but I’m all right. Everyone’s better now…physically.”

David kissed the top of Jesse’s head. “I have missed you. We don’t speak over the phone enough. I didn’t even know you were coming. I will have rooms set up for you.”  
  


He turned to Daniel and eyed him there in the chair, looking a bit nervous. “Daniel,” he greeted. “Chairs are not for hanging on, you know.”

Daniels ears turned pink at the scolding but he made no move to adjust himself. This chair was as solid as a rock, he wasn’t doing it any harm, and as much as he liked David, he wasn’t his maker. They weren’t even related, and David only had a couple mortal decades on him besides.

David pulled a seat forward and sat properly in it. He didn’t feel like needling Daniel about his manners right now. He wanted to listen to these two talk. Anything to distract him from the fact that Lestat had been missing for two nights.

A phone vibrated in his pocket, and he took it out. He had two phones now, his own and Lestat’s. This one was Lestat’s. It was getting repeated messages from people looking for the prince’s input on various business issues, court issues, personal issues. David answered some of the more concerned e-mails and texts from other vampires and Lestat’s attorneys.

Daniel cocked an eyebrow at David; he recognized that iPhone even without its case now. _Sneaky little fuck_ , he said mentally, only to David

David gave a dangerous glance to Daniel. He then sent a mental thought back to him: _This is not your business. I told Armand I should teach you some manners, and maybe I should._ He placed the phone back into his suit pocket. “Jesse, how have you been, really?” David asked. “Have you seen anyone we know? Raymond Gallant is here sometimes.”

Daniel immediately shut both his mind and his mouth; what the hell was wrong with David? He thought that they were getting along well?? Teach him manners? Daniel had more years in the blood than David had!

David felt a pang of guilt. But he was honestly still ruffled over the whole incident with Armand, and unfortunately Daniel was caught in the cross-fire.

Jesse saw the looks being passed between the two men, but she kept her expression neutral. She could ask one of them later. As for how she’d been, Jesse took her time answering. She had a lot of new responsibilities, and she’d been so busy she hadn’t had time to take her own emotional wellbeing into account. “I’m well,” she said, then added, “I haven’t actually seen another vampire in some time. Mostly, I just hear them. Some nights I like to glide on the wind and listen.”

David nodded in understanding. “I wish sometimes I could escape like that and not see vampires for a while. But now we have this court, and I’m afraid I’m ensconced here, in the middle of vampiredom. I can show you around later, if you like. Or perhaps Daniel could. He’s so good at wandering halls, he knows them all.”

Daniel held his own chip on his shoulder for the moment and eyed David carefully, wondering if that was another jab at him or just a joke. He didn’t know David well enough yet to know the difference. “Why don’t we both? I know my way around better, but you’re the history buff.”

He gave a half-smile to Daniel. “Yes, that sounds like a better plan. We will both show you the castle.”

“I’d like that,” Jesse said. She grabbed her bag and stood, slinging it over her shoulder. She gave a little salute to David and Daniel, saying, “Ready when you are, gentlemen.”

Daniel wondered if he was supposed to take her arm or something, struggling to remember the 500 years if etiquette lessons Armand had given him haphazardly over the years, but nothing had really stuck with him at all, and he sort of just trailed to the side and a half step back. He’d always rather liked Jesse, having been made at the same time as she, but he’d been…. not well…at that time and doubted he’d made a good impression

David offered an arm to Jesse and led the way down the first hallway. “You may notice suits of armor randomly around the castle. Many are from the family de Lioncourt, directly passed down through the generations. Quite amazing that Lestat was able to hold onto them, really. The library is just down here.” He pointed to the left of the long hall. “Please try to be quiet in the library,” he said to her, glancing at Daniel. “Sometimes people forget it’s for reading and study.” He smiled then, only half serious.

She glanced over her shoulder to make sure that Daniel was still following. Jesse thought perhaps she should make time to visit with him. While she knew that David was only kidding, Daniel didn’t seem to be taking it that way. Jesse raised an eyebrow at the suits of armor and said, “Yes I’m rather amazed they were still here considering how many heirlooms were likely lost during the Revolution.”

“Lestat has had people hunting down relics like he’s the damn Vatican,” Daniel said with a slight laugh. “Lots was destroyed in the Revolution, cause rich bastards and all, but plenty got looted and sold, too. And they’re always digging up hidden rooms and cellars. It’s pretty cool, really, like Indiana Jones.”

David took them down to the great hall. “This is where most of the younger ones come and hang around, mingling. We keep the tower rooms for the elders and those with some particular importance in the court. Fareed was with us for a while and he has laboratories at our Paris headquarters. I don’t know where Fareed went off to. He left after the rabies situation.” David frowned at the memory. They had almost lost Louis and Armand. But the memory of how sick Louis had been was still terrifying for him. He wondered now where Louis was and felt a strong need to see he was still okay. It had been many nights since he’d seen his brother. Did Louis even know that Lestat was missing? Louis was in the castle, David could tell that much, but he was not sure where.

Jesse peaked in the doorway to the great hall, and indeed there were many fledglings talking and laughing. She felt conflicted at the thought of Fareed abandoning court after what happened. “I suppose that’s not surprising.”

“It really wasn’t Fareed’s fault. Not really.” Daniel wasn’t sure why he felt the need to defend the doctor, but for his little flub there, he’d worked to correct it. That alone set him apart from some other vampires he could mention. “Things have been a little tense since then, though. Louis and Armand both got pretty sick, and we aren’t really sure how long we should be worried about anyone else ..but I’m sure you’ll be fine!”

David sighed as one of the phones in his pocket vibrated again. It was his own phone this time. He stepped aside to answer it then hung up quickly. “I’m sorry, I have to go take care of a few things. Daniel can show you the rest of the castle, I’m sure.” He kissed Jesse’s cheek and lightly squeezed Daniel’s arm with smile then left them there.

 _Oh yes lovely, leave me with the near-stranger because I still have the social skills for that yeah_ , thought Daniel, wishing wildly for a moment that he was still a chatty and uninhibited fledgling. He just hoped he’d managed to cloak his thoughts well enough from David

“Goodnight David,” Jesse said. When it was just she and Daniel again, she turned to him and asked, “Do you still watch movies?” It was a question kind of out of nowhere, but she thought it best to change topics.

It worked. Daniel was at once at ease, and they chatting happily as they spent another hour exploring parts of the castle he hadn’t even seen yet.

They reached the third floor, which was essentially a long wing of suites lining both sides, each decorated as lavishly as any palace should be. It was horribly gaudy to Daniel though. “Hope you like excess.”

Jesse snorted. “You should see the Talamasca motherhouses sometime.”

“Oh, have they updated it from the medieval stone and ghastly iron?” he asked with a laugh, recalling Marius describing it for him in great detail before. Though considering what Daniel knew now, of how the Talamasca had looked for him, he was not so eager to see such a place himself. Too many ghosts of what could have been.

“It’s very Medieval still,” she replied, chuckling. “Though a lot of the decor is… I think ‘plush’ is the word? The last time I was in London, the Motherhouse looked like someone had called the Home Shopping Network and ordered every bit of Versailles knock off furniture they could find.”

“Oh so it’s what would have happened if MTVs Cribs had been around when Lestat was busy being a Rock Super Star?”

Jesse threw her head back and laughed. “Yes! Though I think back then, it would have been Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous.”

“Special Halloween episode for Satan’s Night Out!” Daniel found himself laughing with a bit more ease as they started snooping into unclaimed rooms.

She giggled. “Oh my God, that would be great! You know they’re still around? I saw Tough Cookie on one of those YouTube shows not long ago. Wouldn’t answer any questions about Lestat, and she got so annoyed she got up and walked out.”

“No shit? You can link me up right?” Daniel asked, and they both made a face at the garish yellow decor inside this room. “You know…I’m convinced they know. At the very least, you know they talk about Lestat sometimes and wonder. “

“I’m sure they know,” Jesse replied. She pursed her lips at the yellow room and went to look at the next one. “It would be hard to be around Lestat and not know. The man doesn’t do subtle.”

“Maybe I ought to get an interview. Or we, the two of us, eh Ms. Talamasca?”

She snorted derisively. “I haven’t interviewed anyone in ages, not since my last case with the Talamasca.” The next room was much like the last, but instead of canary yellow, it was decorated in sea foam green. “Anyone in this room?” Jesse asked.

“Just a rat or two, I’m sure. We can always round those up for Louis’s breakfast,” Daniel answered. “…Please don’t tell him I said that.”

“He won’t get a word out of me, scout’s honor,” she said, holding her fingers up in a salute. “I’ll take this one.”

“Not a seafoam guy, myself, but you do you! You wanna come up to my room? I mean!” He rambled quickly, “I have like more livable blankets and shampoo and shit, so…”

Jesse smiled at Daniel as she put her bag down. “Tell me where your room is, and I’ll be up later, how does that sound?”

“Just don’t mind the guard dog, the auburn one. He’s just a disgruntled Chihuahua”

“Don’t blame me if Armand hears that,” she replied. “See you in a bit.”

\--------------------

Marius was in the gardens again. It was quickly becoming one of his favorite places to unwind. Today’s project was the lavender bush, from which he was gingerly removing mature flowers and placing them in a basket.

Armand very rarely stepped out here. The gardens weren’t his thing, so much, beautiful as they were. He preferred the comfort of the hearth, especially lately. But having the fresh air was good now that he had the energy to hunt again, and he had a new lease on life. Armand was…dare he say it…happy?

And happier still to find his maker tending to the flowers. “Am I to receive another bunch tonight, then? I have a vase now.” He spoke softly as he approached, knowing that this giddiness would soon wear off.

Marius turned to face Armand. He’d half been expecting someone to approach him with yet another problem to solve. This was a nice change. He reached into his basket and offered one lavender flower to Armand. “I’m pressing oils tonight,” he said. “Though it seems like you need it more than I.”

Armand raised a brow but took it, smelling the thing. He was grateful then that the exhaustion had finally left him, because the scent was so soothing it might have knocked him out right there. It was a nice night for it. “I have my energy back now. But yours seems to be waning, are you well?”

“I am not ill,” Marius said, only half answering the question, the exhaustion coming through his voice.

“I didn’t imply that you were…” Armand trailed off, looking his maker over but deciding not to pry.  
  


“Is the brat prince back yet?” Marius plucked another flower for his basket.

“No, no sign of him yet. Can I offer you any help?”

Marius sighed audibly, he clearly was not pleased to hear this news. “Yes, I would love your help. At least you’re considerate enough to offer,” he said, with more venom in his words than he meant.

Armand bit back a laugh. Oh he knew this feeling all too well. The feeling of carrying a coven on one’s shoulders while surrounded by imbeciles and amateurs. Though he doubted most members of the council were being as useless as Marius was making out. Marius was often grumpy these days. Perhaps that was why they were getting along better. He nodded and moved beside his maker to help. “Considering another’s plight? What has come over me?”

Marius placed another flower in the basket. His posture relaxed. He was grateful for a distraction of any sort. “In what regard?” he inquired. “You’ve always been… spirited.” He chose the word carefully, for he knew Armand didn’t want to be called difficult.

“Abrasive, horrible, intolerable, fanatical?” Armand spoke amusedly, allowing Marius to take his pick. It didn’t bother him what people thought of him. On any day, it always made him laugh. “All those things, yes, but hardly ever considerate.”

“So you are self-aware,” he said, a hint of a smile tugging at his mouth. “Then you must have ulterior motives. Tell me. Why have you sought me out this evening, Amadeo?”

“I didn’t.” Armand shrugged. “Though fate must have brought us together for something, because I never step into these gardens. You are troubled, though, whether you’ll admit it or not. And you never will.”

“My troubles aren’t a concern of yours,” he said, a bit harsher than he meant. He wasn’t looking for a fight, but his stress had cracked his usually calm façade.

Armand sighed very heavily at this. “Not my business perhaps, but my concern. I have concern for you.” He shrugged, but left it at that. He’d received the exact same treatment the night that Marius had brought him flowers. Well fine, if he wanted to make himself out to be a cold and unfeeling thing, then Armand could play along. And really, it was easier than fighting him over it.

“The concern is mutual,” Marius said, his tone immediately softening. “But I should not burden you with it.” He set the basket down and moved to sit on the bench in hopes that Armand would join him.

Armand obliged but sighed again, looking up at the stars in thought. “One day, I hope you will come to realize that confessing your worries to a loved one is not a form of burdening them,” he said quietly. “It could take an eternity, but then, we have that.”

Marius raised a brow. But he didn’t let himself get angry. He couldn’t in this instance, for he knew that Armand truly meant well. And it would be in everyone’s best interest to encourage this altruism. “Indeed we do,” he agreed. “You know I’ve been trying,” he confessed. “It goes against my nature, though.”

“I understand that. And God knows, I’d never want to change you,” Armand said quietly, sending a sideways glance at Marius. “But I wish that you wouldn’t suffer alone so much. For as awful and nasty and unlovable as I am, I do not divulge people’s secrets. You can tell me anything.”

But Marius could not.

——————————————————

Louis entered his husband’s office in search of a book that he was most certain Lestat had “borrowed.” What he found, though, was not his book, but equally interesting. David was digging through drawers of Lestat’s antique desk, pulling out notebooks and files. “Did Lestat borrow something of yours also?” Louis inquired, breaking the silence.

David looked up, one file in hand, and his heart skipped to see Louis there, looking beautiful as always. He’d been secretly sick with worry for Louis since the vision Armand had used on him the other night. “No, love, I’m trying to find some clue as to where he went.” Lestat had been gone for three nights now, and it was rather worrying. He hadn’t even tried to call back to anyone at the castle. Was this another one of his disappearing acts, where he stays absent for years? “Are you looking for something in here? I may have seen it if you tell me what it was.”

Louis offered a soft smile before approaching David and embracing him. “Yes, one of my travel books has mysteriously gone missing,” he replied.

David slid his arms around Louis and held him close for a long moment, breathing in the familiar smell of him. He kissed Louis’s temple and resisted the urge to do more. He let him go. “A travel book? How interesting. I don’t suppose it was about travels in any particular part of the world? I haven’t seen such a book here. Have you heard from him at all in the past couple nights?”

Louis had cherished the embrace. “Oceania,” he clarified. “New Zealand, Australia…” He trailed off. “No, I have not, unfortunately,” he admitted. Lestat must have his reasons for going.

David scowled at this news. Yet another reference to New Zealand. He watched Louis closely, and found him to be remarkably calm about Lestat’s absence. “Hmm, maybe I will just pop on over to New Zealand and see if he’s around,” he said as if it weren’t the furthest possible place from Auvergne one could go.

“Would you be able to find him?” Louis asked. A note of concern had slipped into his voice despite his best effort to keep it hidden.

“I might. It’s not such a large island. Just fly around and scan the mortal minds for him.”  
  
“Ah yes. I suppose that is an option. But maybe he doesn’t want to be found,” he said, unable to hide the hurt in his voice.  
  
David touched Louis’s soft hair, running a lock of it between his fingers. “How are you, Louis?”

“I cannot complain. I am well physically. I only wonder why Lestat would leave without telling me.” Now the cat was out of the bag.  
  
“Well, he told none of us he was leaving, apparently.” He took a breath. “I have been thinking of you the past few nights.”

  
“Have you now?” he inquired.

David looked away, feeling butterflies in his stomach suddenly. “Yes, often you are on my mind.” He sighed and felt helpless as always around this subject.

Louis wrapped his arms around David once more. “I am flattered,” he said quietly.

David nicked his own tongue with a fang, tilted Louis’s head just so and kissed him sweetly. “Don’t be upset about Lestat, Louis,” he whispered as he forced himself to pull away. “He’ll be back, I’m certain. I won’t go look for him if you don’t want me to.”

“I’m not sure if I’m more upset or angry,” Louis replied after the kiss was broken. “I know he’ll be back. He always comes back. But what chaos will return with him?”

David nodded in understanding. He took out Lestat’s phone from his pocket, because it was buzzing again and proceeded to answer some of the messages. “He does have these unpredictable moments.” And more chaos was the last thing the court needed.

——————————————————————

Later that night, David was perusing the shelves in the travel section of the library, looking for books about the Pacific islands. He’d found one or two, but nothing with the detailed information he really wanted. He leaned against one of the shelves and stared ahead at the books with a blank look. He questioned his purpose for being here again. Who cared if Lestat went off for a few nights, really?

One shelf over, Daniel was dragging out books on Polynesian history and lore, looking for another cross-reference as he sought out their own people and their own stories woven in to these mortal texts. He spied David easily through a gap in the shelves and couldn’t help himself. “You got permission to be in the restricted section, old timer?”

David sighed at the familiar voice from the other side of the shelves. “Are we the only two that ever come to this library?” He took the two books he’d found and walked around the shelves and over to where Daniel was. “Polynesia? Who here is Polynesian, Daniel?”

“Not me, I’m Irish,” he chuckled. “But I need it for researching. You’re not a kiwi, Davey, but you’re reading about New Zealand. Funny that.”

David held his books up then shelved them again in a completely incorrect location. “No. I’m done trying to understand New Zealand. I don’t know what I’m doing here, actually. Do you need help with your research? I need a distraction.”

Daniel bit back the desire to say he could offer David a distraction any day, cursed being made by a slut, and just shrugged. He tossed a brick of a book to David. “Sure. Find me something else by this author if you can.”

David caught the book easily and glanced at the author. “How expansive do you think this library is, Daniel? I highly doubt there’s more than one book by this author here.” He’d also caught Daniel’s thought about distractions. Had he heard that right? He smiled and shook his head. After thirty years, he was still not quiet accustomed to this younger body and the flirtation he got from so many mortals and immortals.

David went over to the laptop at the front desk area of the library to research this author in the library catalog.

“Huh…didn’t figure you guys the kind to have this place so well organized,” Daniel said appreciatively, and then felt like a god damned dumbass as he opened up the book to find the barcode and decimal system stuck to a card inside the cover so as not to damage the old books.

David found two other books by that particular author and went and pulled them from the shelves. He took them to Daniel and handed them off with a smile. “I’m quick.” He examined Daniel a little closer. “How are you?”

“All right,” Daniel said, taking the books and thanking David. He kept a hard look on the man though, keeping his jaw set. He’d heard what went down with David and Armand, and David’s words about Daniel himself. And he still had not a damn idea what to make of it. But he was of Armand’s blood, Marius’s blood, and he was going to damn well live up to it.

David kept his eyes on Daniel, considering. He was bored without Lestat here to bother him. Louis was off with his books again. He’d caught up on all the phone messages for Lestat. Now he had no place to focus his attentions. Maybe he should go out and hunt. He smiled slowly at Daniel. “Would you like to go to Paris, Daniel?”

“…Excuse?” Daniel said, cocking his head to the side as he held his books. “For what? You know a library there open this late?”

David dropped his head forward and exhaled. Sometimes he forgot Daniel was occasionally one plate short of a tea set. “No, Daniel. That was a hunting offer.”

“Well, sure, I knew that,” Daniel lied, setting his books down into his usual Daniel Corner. “I just never hunted with you before so. Do…you still need to eat every night, too?”

David followed Daniel over to his corner and leaned against the nearest wall. “No. But often I do.” He reached out and touched the designs along the wall, slid a finger along the vine of flowers painted there. “I enjoy hunting. I was a hunter even when human. Do you, Daniel, enjoy it? Or is it just the actual kill you prefer?” David watched him closely for a reaction.

“I never had a problem with the killing,” Daniel said immediately, remorselessly. “I know that’s not the narrative people like for the modern fledgling, but I just…never had a problem with the idea of killing someone who had it coming, or wanted it. Grew up in the years of free love and hippies, but eh.” He let his eyes follow the paintings that David trailed. “Armand took me out to hunt when I was still mortal. Same as Marius did him, I found out later. And it just didn’t rattle me.”

David had not expected this straightforward response. He crossed his arms on his chest and thought about it. “Why did Armand do that? Did you ask him to take you out?” He tried to imagine Lestat doing that to him before he’d forced David to take the blood. “I seem to recall Louis mentioning that Lestat did that with him too, though.”

“Have you met my maker?” Daniel laughed easily. “Who knows why? To terrify me? To prepare me? Because he thought it would be funny? Coulda been foreplay for all I know. I got made by one of the craziest sonsabitches in the coven!”

David narrowed his eyes at Daniel. “Yes, I’ve met your maker.” He had vivid memories of the other night still. “Crazy is an understatement.”

Daniel couldn’t help the snickering laughter that came from him at David’s face, safe and content with the knowledge that as crazy as Armand was, Daniel alone held a special immunity.

David looked away, slightly irritated. “Don’t you ever wonder, Daniel, how your life as a vampire might have turned out with a saner maker?”

Daniel pulled back, narrowing his eyes as he ran those words back over in his head three or four times, sure he hadn’t heard right. “I love Armand,” he said simply, defensively. “And he isn’t crazy for real, David.”

David laughed. “He is a bit, my dear. Love has blinded you.”

“I don’t call trauma the same as a true madness,” Daniel said, bristling. “And what of yours, then? Can’t even keep straight a story about a locket, changes you through rape?”

David stilled for a moment, fixed on Daniel. He moved forward, placed his hands on the table and leaned towards him. “Yes, we all have our traumas, don’t we? Imagine what that was like for me, Daniel?”

As much as Daniel regretted his words, he also felt like he was in too deep to back the fuck out now. “Probably about as bad as it felt for Armand to have the same thing done to him in the mortal way, but you call him crazy for it.” Daniel wondered if he was flexible enough to literally kiss his own ass goodbye

David swallowed. He gathered his wits back together and stood up. “I can’t touch you Daniel, because Armand has sworn to, I believe his words were ‘make me regret being brought forth on this Earth’ if I do.” He moved back to his post against the wall and crossed arms on his chest again. “But I would, if I could.”

Daniel let out another gust of laughter at David’s face because, so far, he was the only vampire among them he could think of who had truly most his god damned mind. “So if mommy hen wasn’t clucking after you, you’d have no qualms about decking me?”

“Do you call him that? Mommy?” David smiled again, showing fangs. “I’m stronger than him, but he’s got mental strength that exceeds mine. So yes, I’m keeping hands off with you… for now.”

Daniel felt a chill go through him as instinct told him to back down, but the audacity of this man infuriated him. “You know, David, I think I liked you better through the rose colored filter of Lestat’s writing.”

For some reason that stung, and David went silent for a while, thinking about those words. He walked away to sit at another table with a random book he pulled from the shelf and began to read.

May it be known that Daniel Molloy had two enduring traits; he was no coward, and he didn’t know when to fucking quit while he was ahead. “All right Davey, start shit then run away, that’s cool. I’m tired of playing ‘my dad can beat up your dad’ anyway.”

David scooted his chair back, stood and went back over the Daniel’s alcove. He sat in a chair relatively near Daniel and placed the book he’d been reading on the table. “Right then, Daniel. You seem to want attention,” he said with a very level, calm voice. “I’m not going to play childish games about whose maker is strongest, because we both know it’s Lestat.” He looked at the books on the table. “Why are you taunting me?”

“Are you fucking serious?” Daniel snapped back, once again showing zero regard for the _vampires reading_ sign. “You’re the one stirring shit, David! You’re the one sneaking around and leaving conversations halfway through! You’re the one who thought it a good idea to go toe to toe with Armand, who you regard as unhinged! Shit man, I’m the one who still sometimes forgets what day it is and what floor my room is on, but here you are, proving yourself to be the one losing it!”

David watched Daniel closely. “Sneaking around?” he asked. He looked away from Daniel. “Daniel, why are you researching Polynesia? Who is Polynesian in this castle?”

Daniel picked up the book, all but swinging it around in David’s face. “I’m researching world myths, David! I want to see where our culture and history overlapped into human history! When did you get so damn paranoid? Holy shit!”

David laughed. He held his hands up in defense. “I’m not paranoid. I’m simply curious. I didn’t know it was for a legitimate reason.” He reached over and took the book from Daniel and placed it back on the table. “Calm down. If you want to know about world myths overlapping vampire culture, I’m rather an expert, you know.”

“Yeah, and if you hadn’t been talking to my maker about slapping some sense into me, maybe I would have come to you!” He grabbed the book back, and slipped it into his bag, followed by his laptop. Speaking of Armand, it sounded like a good idea to be near him right now.

“I didn’t say I would slap sense into you. Just that I could teach you some etiquette.” He watched Daniel pack up and laughed again. This was all amusing.

“I dunno about your generation, but for mine ‘teach him some manners’ doesn’t mean anything good, David,” Daniel said, hating the shake in his voice. Why the hell was he afraid of him??

David stopped laughing, as Daniel seemed genuinely scared now. He couldn’t stop smiling at him though. He had this inner tiger instinct to play with his food, even though Daniel was not food.  
  
“I’m sorry, Daniel. I’ve frightened you. I don’t know why I do that.” He moved back, giving Daniel more space. “We are both born in the 1900’s. In another hundred years, it won’t matter if it was early or late century. We will just be of the same century.” He let his smile fade. “I’m sorry, truly I am.”

Daniel nodded vaguely, slinging his bag over his shoulder and feeling more humiliated than anything right now. He’d run around with Armand for twelve years. Who was he to act frightened of David fucking Talbot? “Listen, thanks for the books…I think I’m gonna go find Jesse or Marius or something uh, get another opinion on my research.”

David watched Daniel head for the door. “Run along then, Daniel,” he muttered under his breath.


	13. Beloved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lestat makes it back home, and Daniel makes a new, powerful friend.

Lestat shot down out of the clouds and landed on the balcony outside the private chambers he kept at the top of one of the chateau’s four towers. The glass in the French doors reflected his appearance, an utterly disheveled mess. Silently, he let himself inside, and he stood in the center of the parlor for a moment with his eyes closed, simply listening to the castle beneath him.

 _Home._ He was home. He’d made it. He’d survived! Well, he always did, didn’t he? It had seemed hairy there for a couple nights, but he was back again, all right. And all seemed well in the castle as far as his senses could detect. The whole enterprise hadn’t exploded without him. His tense shoulders sank with relief, even as he began to tremble.

Lestat stripped off his ruined clothes on his way to the bathroom, where he took a very, very hot shower. But he was still cold when he came out, so he stuffed the discarded clothes into the hearth and set them on fire with his mind to warm the room while he went to his closets to get dressed. He chose the simplest clothes he owned, a pair of black jeans and a long sleeved soft shirt with no buttons, then he stood by the fire until it burnt out far too quickly. His hair wasn't even dry yet.

With a sigh, he slowly looked around his rooms for his phone, but when he couldn't find it, he picked up his computer from his desk and tucked it under his arm, unplugging the cord and taking that up as well. He stood still for a moment, glancing at the space, and then eventually picked up a little statuette of a phoenix that he'd always liked. With those three things, he went to the private staircase that led down to Louis's rooms beneath him.

Louis had said he wanted them to share rooms. That he wanted to be as a husband to Lestat. And to him, that meant sharing rooms. Well, Lestat wasn’t about to put it off any longer. Not after the past three nights. Not when he felt like he was barely hanging onto his beloved Louis by the thinnest thread. He would do anything to try to keep him from drifting away from court—permanently this time. He could only hope it wasn’t too late. 

He wasn't surprised to find Louis’s apartment empty at this hour. He set the phoenix on a shelf in the sitting room. There. Consider him moved in. What else mattered? The rooms upstairs could hold his extensive wardrobe and serve as nothing more than his closet. He would do everything else he needed in these rooms from now on.

He set the computer on the table and took a seat before it, opening it up to run the Find My iPhone app. The clever program had served him well in the past...the rare times his phone actually still had batteries left by the time he looked for it. The chances were slim now after so many days, but he'd try anyway.

Closing his eyes, he sat back in his chair and listened intently to the castle to see if he could detect wherever its alert might sound.

The sound came from much closer than Lestat expected, and his eyes snapped open. He tried to get a sense of whose mind might be near where it was coming from, but could detect absolutely no one. Could it be just lying around somewhere?  
  


As he rose from the chair and closed his computer to leave the tower, he realized in the corridor below that the sound was coming from David's chambers.  
  
By the time he was at their door, Lestat could sense a fire inside, so he assumed David must be within, even though he could not detect him at all. He knocked first, but if there was no answer, he intended to let himself in and find the damn phone once and for all.

David was stretched out in a chair before the fireplace, dozing lightly on and off. He'd just returned from Paris after hunting and was very satiated. As he’d been listening to the fire crackle and trying to think of no particular topic, just to keep his mind empty, one of the phones in his pocket started vibrating and ringing loudly.

He’d sat up abruptly and pulled it from his pocket. It was some number he didn't recognize, so he did not answer but let it ring itself through to voice-mail. David was just putting the phone back in his pocket and was prepared to doze again, when a knock sounded at his door. He frowned at it. He couldn't read who it was. Either it was one of the very old ones, or it was Lestat. He stood quickly and opened the door.

The sight of David warmed something in Lestat unexpectedly, chipping away at the ice that felt like it made up his core, and he smiled just faintly.

David smiled back at Lestat. "Ah, the Prince has returned. Are you done with your holiday?"

  
Lestat flinched. His gaze shifted away, but he nodded a little. "Quite done." He took a sharp breath as if he might say something else, but changed his mind and met David's eyes again. "Do you happen to have my iPhone?"

David smiled wider at him. "I might." He stood aside and held an arm out, inviting Lestat to enter his room. He shut the door behind him and moved into the room as well, so happy suddenly to have him there in his sight again. "I missed you. I missed you a lot. Where were you?"

Lestat didn't have the heart to return David's smile this time. He nodded in gratitude and crossed at once to the fireplace. "Nowhere... as it turns out." He sighed in a soft, weary way as he stared down at the flames, feeling the last of the water dry out of his hair. "I missed you as well. And I'm sorry for staying away." He knew he should take the phone and go, was sure he had a thousand things to catch up on from his unexpected time away. But what he should do and what he wanted to do were not at all in agreement, so he didn't push for it.

David watched Lestat closely. He was not his jubilant self. He flashed back to those times when he was still a mortal man and Lestat would show up in his rooms at the Talamasca, weary, needing someone to talk to. He stepped close and pulled Lestat into a warm embrace. "Do you want to sit down?" David offered. "You can talk to me, you know? Remember, we used to talk all night long sometimes."

Lestat stiffened in surprise. He'd been so intent on the fire, that he hadn't even noticed David draw close. But then he turned into him and put his hands on David's sides, tilting his head against his shoulder. He could feel the heat of the fresh kill under David's skin even through his clothes, and it made Lestat want to cling to him as if he were a mortal himself. "Of course I remember," he murmured, but he didn't say anything else about actually doing any talking now. He wouldn't even know where to begin. After a long moment of just holding him, Lestat shook his head and drew back. "Thank you, by the way...for finding my iPhone. I thought I was going to have to buy another new one."

David eyed Lestat for a second, noting the fact that he'd just deflected the offer to talk. He sighed, reached into his pocket and took out Lestat's phone. "Yes, you left it on the rooftop the other night. I've been keeping up with your messages and calls. You shouldn't have much to deal with in that respect." He handed the phone off to him.  
  


Lestat's eyes widened faintly in surprise and gratitude. He'd seen David after that night...they'd lain together for hours in his coffin. In fact David was the last person Lestat had seen before his little misadventure. But Lestat supposed it wasn't too surprising David had neglected to mention the phone then, given how upset he was...  
  


He took it from David's hand and slid it into the pocket of his jeans without even looking at it. "What would I ever do without you?"

David placed his hands behind his own back and stood still. "By the way, there is a new password to unlock the phone, it's Beloved91."

This touched Lestat’s heart and made him smile genuinely this time. "The year I made you..."

David shrugged a little. "Yes. Seemed like something we could both remember easily." He glanced away, at the fire. "Perhaps next time you just randomly take off with no warning, you could at least tell someone? Louis is a little upset about it as well."

Lestat watched David closely, but set his jaw to hide the flinch of pain as he felt his heart twist. Excuses strove to rise to his lips, an explanation that he would have told someone if he could, that he had no intention to be gone so long, how desperate he was to come back once he realized he couldn't, the shattering relief at finally being able to in the end...

But he pushed these excuses all down and merely gave a small nod. "Yes... All terribly selfish of me, I know." His hand moved as if he'd reach out to David, but then his fingers curled back and he just turned to leave instead, the heavy feeling sinking in his chest. "Thank you again, David...beloved." He paused at the door before going out. "If you see Louis, please let him know I'll be in our room."

Frustration welled in David as Lestat left. He was clearly holding something in and not sharing it, no matter how David tried to get it out of him.  
  


Then in sunk in that he'd said to tell Louis he would be in "our room." Had they moved in together? Why had Louis not mentioned this to him?  
  


David sat heavily in the chair and stared at the fire again, wishing that he had not already been out to hunt. He would enjoy killing something right now.

When Lestat returned to Louis’s room— _their_ room—Louis was still nowhere to be found. He stared at his computer on the table. He knew he should open it and get to work catching up on everything he'd missed. Even though he'd wiped the calendar clean and cancelled every single event for the future, there was still undoubtedly much waiting for his attention.  
  


He couldn't bring himself to do it though.  
  


Instead, he passed through into the bedroom. Going around the bed, he stopped by the windows, staring out at the night. He felt cold again, and suddenly wished he'd never left David's room. He considered going back to the warmth of his hearth and his embrace, but it just seemed so far away. So instead he sank to the floor beside the bed, pulling a blanket off it and wrapping it around his shoulders.  
  


He set his phone on the floor between his shoes, but he didn't wake it up yet. Just stared at the black screen for a long minute. In the castle below him, he could hear the murmurs spreading about his return by those who had sensed him, but he tuned them out. Closing his eyes, he pulled the blanket tighter and tried not to think of the sea.

Lestat waited there for the rest of the night, but Louis never came, and eventually nightmares of the oppressive tons of black water claimed him.

\--------------------

Gregory had his work spread out across the council table before him. Several files, pens, his laptop, and a coffee mug, which he never drank from but kept near for prop when he had to do a teleconference. The mug said, “Best Boss Ever” on one side, and “Collingsworth Pharmaceuticals” on the other. He was typing up an email to one of his associates at Johnson & Johnson. This was a busy time for him, with the mortal world going through so much turmoil. Even he struggled sometimes to keep up with everything. Usually he did this work from his own offices, but he’d been absent from the Court too often lately. He felt he should at least be present to help Marius and Lestat when he had free moments.

Daniel didn’t even see Gregory at first. He was too busy reading over the notebook in his hand, using just his peripheral vision to keep himself from walking into something. Catching that movement startled him to an embarrassing degree considering his recent anxiety. “Shit, ah, sorry, Gregory, just looking for somewhere to work besides the library, I can go use Marius’ study-”

Gregory held a hand up for Daniel to stop talking for a moment. He pointed at his laptop, where he was just finishing a quick Zoom session with some employees. He gestured for Daniel to sit in one of the chairs at the table, while he finished up.

He disconnected the meeting and smiled brightly at the young blood drinker. “It’s not a problem, Daniel. This table is ginormous. Please join me in here. I like company.” He took in Daniel’s appearance of modern comfort and felt a bit jealous. Here he was in a suit and tie. “We should really ask about having some private offices built, don’t you think?”

Daniel shrugged, looking over his shoulder into the empty hall. “I mean, I have my own rooms, off from Marius’. I’ve got a bit of an office there. But it’s good to get out of my own space. Sorry for screwing up your call. Mortals?”

“No worries. You didn’t screw anything up. I actually like getting disruptions like that, it makes me more human to them. Yes, mortal employees in my company’s LA office.” Gregory typed a few quick notes out about the call, then focused back on Daniel. “And what are you working on this evening?”

Daniel slipped awkwardly to the side of the table, close enough to speak to Gregory but far enough to not feel like he was infringing on his elder’s space. Being in the coven house had made Daniel very aware that as powerful as his maker was, he was scarcely more than a fledgling like Daniel compared to these ancients. “I’m working on a couple projects right now, whatever strikes me. Finding vampire history hidden in human culture.”

He smiled at Daniel’s awkward attempt to select a seat not too far, not too close. “I’m not going to bite, Daniel,” he teased, trying to put him at ease. “You don’t have to be nervous. I know I put off this powerful vibe, like the rest of the ancients. Pretend it’s just a purring motor. I don’t like to intimidate.” He considered the topic Daniel had mentioned. “Vampire history in human culture? Like Vlad the Impaler and Nosferatu? You know, during the middle ages, mostly around the plague times, victims were often labeled vampires, because they would get these bloody lesions around their mouths.”

“I have heard the same takes about diabetics as well,” Daniel said, nodding, looking over his notes. “The thirst and the sweet smell they could exude...but I mean more like, where do we show up as their boogey men? Or when do our cultures intermingle with theirs?” Truly Daniel would love to ask Gregory about the old attempts vampires had made before, to form bonds and cultures, but he was doing well just to sit and chat.

Gregory sifted through the thousands of years of memories to try and find something for Daniel. “I mean, it was disease that created the myth of the vampire more than we ourselves, as blood drinkers, did. The humans needed an explanation for why the diseases killed some and not others. They came up with vampires.” He scanned quickly over Daniel’s thoughts, which were a little jumbled and hard to decipher, but he could see he wanted to ask something more. “You want to know about vampire bonds and cultures way back? How far back?”

“Well...before the lore was popularized,” he said thoughtfully. “Before garlic and crosses, before bricks in the mouth. Before the word vampire...it’s just the investigator in me I think,” he said with a small laugh. “I’m also wanting to do a proper follow up for *Interview*. Take the name back for myself, write a story for us, truly us. Maybe collecting together our own poetry, print with Marius’ paintings, Lestat’s lyrics. If we’re building a council, we’re building a culture, aren’t we?”

Gregory leaned forward a bit, intrigued with this idea. “This happens to be my favorite topic, Daniel. Vampires are not dead, we are alive. We are active in the world when we want to be. I firmly believe this is the time in history when we can come out and make great improvements in the mortal world. This is why I create businesses and make myself a public figure. We should not be living in the dark anymore. Do you agree?”

“Oh I do!” Daniel said eagerly, scooting his chair a little closer to Gregory. “Lestat called us but cats but I don’t think that’s true at all. We’re wolves more than cats, just a bunch of asshole wolves who are only just learning to get along.”

Gregory chuckled at that. “Sounds about right. Each of us in our pack, learning to tolerate the others.” Gregory considered a moment before asking his next question. “How are you tolerating it, Daniel? I’m curious how the younger ones are dealing with it. I’m mainly with the other ancients and the council members and don’t get to see the lower ranks of it much. Do you have any suggestions to help this system run smoother?”

“Me? Naw, shit, I’ve still got times where I can’t remember the date or if I’ve changed my clothes recently enough. Just shaking off that last bit of crazy y’know?” he asked with a laugh, slightly tinged with his nerves. “Honestly it’s nice here though, over all. And the Paris house. More my age out there.”

Gregory listened attentively. “Yes, sometimes the newly made lose their grip on reality for a little while after. Or just get a little more violent than usual. Happens often when there was trauma before they were made. Did you have that...trauma, I mean?” He glanced at his computer, as one of his assistants was just emailing him the times of the next meetings he had coming up.

“Ha! Haven’t read our books have you? ...sorry, It’s been a week.” Daniel fidgeted while setting up his own laptop, and spreading out his notes. “...I’m Armand’s. Some have called that trauma enough.”

Gregory laughed. “I have read the books, back and forth. I’m trying to draw you out here with leading questions. It’s a business tactic.”

“My friend, I’m a devotee to a trickster god, Loki shoved into 180 pounds of concentrated violence. The only leads I follow anymore are his. Or a good story,” he finished with a grin. “Never let go of that, ‘cept when I was at my worst and didn’t really understand anything said to me. But Marius told me stories. I’ll have to rope you in to be my subject some time, Gregory.”

Gregory grinned at that as he typed a quick response to his assistant. “Oh, you want stories? Speaking of difficult to survive with makers, mine was a narcissistic demigoddess who took me as a lover then threatened to torture and kill me in front of her husband when I stopped pleasing her, and THEN started an entire blood-drinker race and launched a thousand-year war doing so. Sooo... I feel like I might have you beat there, Danny.”

“Ok true!” Daniel conceded, recalling for once that he wasn’t in a library and didn’t need to mind his volume at all. “Mine was just a stalker on the edgy side, not so bad! And if you turned out ok after six thousand years there’s hope for any of us huh?”

“Absolutely. You’re not hopeless. Did you think you were?” He smiled brightly at Daniel. Gregory paused and looked to the side for a second, listening to something distant and then returned his attention to the conversation. “Have you heard, Lestat is back?”

“Yeah, most of France has heard by now I’m sure,” Daniel chuckled, easing deeper and deeper into his seat. “And here with all the rumors running around the castle, I figured he’d either gotten the rabies and was being hidden away or he ran off to live in a Hobbit hole.”

Gregory nodded. “Ah the rumor mill working overtime. That’s my favorite part about being in a court. So entertaining.”

His phone rang and he glanced at the caller ID. “Oh, Sorry. One minute, I have to take this. Bill Gates. Sorry.” He answered and spoke with the other for a few minutes about donations and charities and a recent clinical trial Gregory’s company had done. He hung up and apologized to Daniel. “I get overwhelmed sometimes with this job and the Court.” He shook his head a little. “What were we talking about?”

“...You have Bill Gates in your contacts. Why...why am I surprised, I shouldn’t be surprised.”

Gregory pushed his phone over to Daniel with the contacts list open. “I have everyone who is anyone in this world right now in my contacts.” He smiled. “That’s what I mean about vampires making a mark in the human world. If you want to meet anyone, I can probably arrange it.”

“...I uh. I’m good thanks,” Daniel said, scrolling through the list. “There might have been a time I’d ask for contacts with Time or National Geographic but that ship’s sailed for me. Maybe someday, but for now I’m doing good with my own writing...what are you going to do when you’re “too old” to be running this shit?”

Gregory looked confused. “Too old? I’m six thousand. I’m already too old.”

“I mean when the mortals wonder how long old grandpa Gregory can run this shit!” Daniel leaned back into his seat, laptop ignored. “Have you gone through a few lifetimes pretending to be different men in the same position? How do you do that in an era of photography?”

“Well, I have about five years left on this persona with this particular company. I already have another one setting up. Also, it’s not uncommon for sons to look like their fathers. I inherit my own fortune every eighty to one hundred years. And, I happen to have been fortunate enough to have been made a vampire when I still had a beard. Sometimes I live out a mortal lifetime with the beard, sometimes I’m clean shaven every night. No one really believes in immortals. Sometimes in meetings they tease me that I’m a vampire because I will only meet them at night. And I nod and tell them I am, but they don’t really believe it.” Gregory laughed.

“Yeah, you think I believed Louis telling me he was one? Oh hello sir, can I buy you a drink, oh, a vampire huh? Like Dracula? Shit man. My world would have been a different mess if I hadn’t believed Louis that night...would you let me interview you sometime?” Asked Daniel, a bit of a spark coming over him again. “I know busy as you are you probably don’t have a lot of time, but even a couple hours with you—!”

“Of course you can interview me. You know, I have a TED Talk I’m giving later this week in Paris. Would you like to attend? There will be famous humans there you can rub elbows with.”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Daniel whispered, setting his head into his hands. “And here I thought meeting NYC artists with Armand was a huge deal.” Daniel just shook his head, appraising Gregory for a moment. He was a handsome man, well put together...the kind of man who had all his god damned ducks in a row. “I mean...yeah! Yeah that’d be cool! I mean I’m not really into the rubbing elbows thing just now but uh...yeah! Thanks!”

Gregory enjoyed this enthusiasm in fledglings. Maybe he could get Daniel to participate more in the human world too. “I would not be surprised if Armand has contacts in high society too, Daniel. You don’t live in New York City at the level of wealth he had and not be a known name there.” He looked at his watch. “I actually have a meeting to do now. You can stay if you like and work on your stuff. But I’ll be otherwise distracted for a while.”

Daniel eyed him quietly, then looked back to his laptop. Daniel was very good at making himself a shadow, being quiet and minding his own thing when he needed. He chose to stay, mostly because he couldn’t be assed to move.

Besides, he had some notes to take while Gregory was at work.

Gregory glanced over his laptop to Daniel, then back to his work. His meeting had ended, but he was busy still typing away at his notes and answering more emails. Then he went to Twitter and tweeted an appropriately amusing comment about some current event, which always got immediate response from his employees and followers.

Daniel should have looked at when the tweet was posted. If he had, he wouldn’t have liked it literally 12 seconds after it was posted/ten seconds after following Gregory on Twitter. Definitely wouldn’t have been as eager and embarrassing a look.

Gregory tried not to chuckle at the awkward vibe Daniel was putting off. Young ones were so amusing at this age. “What is wrong, Daniel?”

Daniel didn’t use to startle easily. He used to be easy going. Only thing that used to scare him was the thought of Armand leaving and not coming back. But the 80s were a long time away now, and he gave a little jump at Gregory’s sudden voice. “Ah, nothing, it’s nothing,” Daniel smoothed over, clicking out of Twitter as though afraid the ancient might try to see through his eyes. “Just internet drama. You keep a good online presence. So were you using computers since IBM was the name or did you just join social media last year? You ancients tend to fall one or the other.”

“Sorry, I don’t mean to startle. You seem particularly jumpy since you came in. Is it something I’m doing?” Gregory smiled. “I have been the first to jump on every new gadget and invention since even way back before the light bulb. I’ll buy the new iPhone full price the day it comes out... well, I would, if I didn’t just get them sent to me for free by the CEO. I’m that sort of ancient.”

“You’ve mastered the art of the humble brag,” Daniel observed with mock wisdom, nodding his head slowly. “The perfect balance of humility while still slipping in your immense wealth and power, that’s admirable!” But he tempered this too with laughter. He only wanted to tease, and banter was the main way he knew how.

Gregory nodded sagely. “I can humble brag with the best of them. And you didn’t answer my first question. Why are you jumpy?”

...Cock sucking mother fucking ancients. Living with Marius for nearly thirty years should have gotten him used to this. “Fledgling?” He hazarded a guess with a shrug, uncapping a fine tip Sharpie and testing the nib against his thumb. The blue black ink welled into the lines of his skin. “I’ve lived through two fucking burnings, y’all old things are scary.”

Gregory frowned. “I’m sorry. I can’t turn off how old I am.” He returned to his laptop, typing out a few more responses to emails. “Are you sure that’s all it is, Daniel?” He kept his eyes on his work while he spoke. “Because I think I’m hearing rumors it might be more.”

Daniel wanted to bristle, but he tried to be mindful of himself, like Marius taught him, like Armand taught him. Posture and movement were as important as mental shielding to keep oneself private from other blood drinkers. “Rumors spread through this castle like a middle school.”

Gregory noted Daniel’s effort to hide annoyance. He decided not to press the issue. “Okay, evasion noted. So the TED Talk thing is this Friday evening. I know there will be other speakers, but I don’t know their exact topics. The whole thing is medical though. Mine may be rather dull to you. Regenerative medicine through pharmaceuticals. But we could talk after, if you like. You said you want an interview.”

“What’re you my shrink?” Daniel muttered, but tried to keep his tone light and his posture easy. “I mean it’s not any area of my expertise but I’ve been known to binge a TED talk or twenty before, absorb some random knowledge I’ll never use...you sure it’s alright? It’s not a bother to tag along?”

Gregory ignored the words Daniel muttered. He didn’t want to push this one into talking if he didn’t want to. Daniel had Marius and Armand after all. “No, of course it’s alright. My wife used to go to these events with me, but she has become very bored with them, as have my other family. I like company. Otherwise it’s just me, a single vampire among crowds of humans.”

“I don’t think a vampire should be the only one of his kind anywhere if he can help it,” Daniel said thoughtfully. “I heard it all first hand, how lonely Louis’ tone was, talking about roaming the whole god damned northern hemisphere looking for their own kind...” He trailed off, a twisting anxiety in his stomach at the thought. “So what do I wear?”

“Daniel, you need some new subjects to interview for sure. Louis was like forty years ago.” Gregory chuckled. “Business casual. You know what? I’m going to introduce you to a few mortals there who are in the publishing world.” Gregory studied Daniel. “I think you need a job.”

Daniel was about to object that he had a job thank you very much, but then he realized oh, yes. Time. Time indeed. It had been 40 years since “Anne Rice”, a name he forged after three sleepless nights over a box of takeout curry, had published her first novel. The pseudonym had been used regularly but not by him. His agent probably wasn’t even alive anymore and he hadn’t put together a proper story in decades. “I don’t need help finding a job,” he said, a little uncomfortable. “I could find something on my own merit.”

“Oh, you can find one on your own, I have no doubt. But will you? Or will you just meander around the Chateau for another decade before getting around to it?” Gregory picked up his phone and scrolled through some contacts. He sent a few texts out to the ones that might be a good match for Daniel.

Daniel could say nothing, but he withdrew his hands from his laptop as though burned by the keys, and tended a moment. How was he supposed to cloak his mind and thoughts from one so old when he could barely manage it with Marius? “I’ve only been in court a month or so.” He shrugged, feeling warm. “Just acclimating still.”

Gregory smiled warmly at Daniel. “I don’t mean to read your mind. It’s surface thoughts, I pick them up whether I’m trying or not. Don’t worry, I’m not delving into your personal erotic memories or anything.” He winked at Daniel and laughed a little, then returned to texting.

“Daniel, are you being bullied again?” Armand asked fondly as he made his own way into the council chamber. He had his own work to do, but found himself hoping to seek out company. Or perhaps Daniel. His voice, though amused, did have a detectable edge to it. After all that had happened with David he was feeling particularly protective of Daniel, and he was not afraid of Gregory. He probably should have been.

Daniel’s face brightened as Armand drew close; with himself sitting and Armand standing they were nearer to each other’s height than usual, and he reached to give his maker a quick kiss. “Horribly, Boss, I think I need to be taken out of school!” He laughed, looking sidelong to catch Gregory’s eye and rather glad for some levity in the room.

“Good evening, Armand. I was not bullying, I assure you.” He watched them both for a moment. Armand, protective. Daniel, a bit uneasy. “I won’t push it, Daniel. You can just talk with some of them and never contact them again. Armand, would you be interested in attending an event with us this Friday? It’s a conference of sorts that I’m speaking at.”

“What is it about?” Armand asked reservedly. Honestly, he had no mind for anything that bored him. He took his seat gracefully beside Daniel and set up his own laptop, placing a hand on Daniel’s knee in assurance. He knew his fledgling for all his boldness was also an anxious heap of flesh at times. “You may capture my interest yet.”

Daniel reached down beneath the table to take Armand’s hand, something that was still so comfortable even after thirty years apart. “Med tech,” Daniel supplied, scrounging up his memory. “He’s giving a talk on it, and a few others. I’ve been invited...I think I might go, for a change of pace.”

“Medical regeneration through pharmaceuticals,” Gregory rambled off absently as he was answering emails again. “Please come, I’ll only be speaking for a short time.”

Armand hadn’t had someone beg for his presence for a while. And although it was out of pure politeness, when coming from Gregory such a sentiment made him preen a little. “Alright then, it sounds interesting. I can’t promise to understand much of it, but it will be different.”

“What, like I’ll get it?” Daniel smirked. “What do I have any grasp on anymore besides vintage typewriters and MLA formatting? And if either of you mention trains I’ll bite you like the fledgling court takes me to be.”

“Excellent! So it’s business casual dress. Starts at 8:00 pm. I will have a car drive us. I have to arrive that way, to keep up the mortal persona.” He was pleased to have some other blood drinkers to join him. “We could do something after, if you like. A concert or anything.”

Armand quirked a brow and smiled ever so slightly. Now Gregory did have his attention. Though a concert may not have been his scene, the thought amused him, and being chauffeured around in the finest car wearing the finest clothes was also to his taste. He gave Daniel’s hand a squeeze. “That sounds delightful. If you are happy for me to join, Danny.”

Danny. He had half a mind to not let anyone but Armand call him that. The name sounded so much more sweet on his lips than anyone else’s. “I joined you around the world Armand, what’s another city to us? It’ll be like old times. Plus one of course,” he added, nodding to Gregory. “It’s...very kind of you to invite us. Me.”

“Of course, both of you are welcome. Again, I like company.” Gregory found it odd these two seemed like they didn’t get out much on their own.

Armand nodded, amused that Gregory would say this. It was rare that anyone enjoyed his company, as abrasive as he was. “It will be delightful, I’ve barely been out since I recovered. And it’ll be good for you too, Danny.”

“You all really need to stop talking to me like I’m an invalid, you know?” Daniel said, squirming uneasily in his seat and looking resolutely at his dimming laptop screen.

“I don’t think you’re an invalid, Daniel,” Gregory said. “Just odd,” he teased. “No, really, you’re just young still. Should have seen how crazy I was in the first hundred years.”

Armand sighed sadly and extracted his hand, patting Daniel’s with it gently. Truly, he hadn’t had anything of the sort in mind. He was simply looking for an excuse to shorten his name, something he knew Daniel adored. He looked from his laptop to Gregory briefly, unable to believe his words. “Tell us about it.”

“Yeah, no one tells us this shit,” Daniel said eagerly, sitting forward. “The way Lestat and Louis and Marius and all them tell it, it’s smooth sailing from first blood!”

Gregory smiled at Armand, but then was shocked to hear Daniel’s words. “Really? I didn’t get that impression from them. I think they sugarcoated it a little. Lestat in particular seemed to have some emotional extremes he struggled to control. Armand, did you find it easy? The first hundred years?”

Gregory thought about his own first century and glowered at the tabletop. He shouldn’t have opened this can of worms. “I was just bloodthirsty on a whole other level than even what the average new fledgling is in this era. Because I was only fourth born to the Queen, you see. There were not enough of us yet to thin out the thirst of the spirit. And it was painful and unbearable. I was a violent, violent thing. Captain of the guard for a reason, you know.” He shook his head to get out of those memories. “But I survived that. You’ll be fine, Daniel.”

Somehow to Daniel that didn’t seem the same thing. A madness yes, a frightful thing yes, but how could he describe for them what it was like to lose months at a time while still being awake? To have been up and moving and feeding and then one day to look in front of him and not know where he was or how he got there, not recognize how his “city” had grown...

But he dampened that down. He’d had it easy. Nobody kidnapped him into a cult, his maker hadn’t thrown himself into a pyre as soon as he was made. He’d been no orphan, and for that he was grateful.

So he nodded his understanding, wanting to put that away now. “Surely there was good too? In your young years, your fledgling years?”

Gregory tried to think of something good from those times. “Well, I had some close brothers. Gundesanth and others. Brothers or sisters are always good to have.”

Daniel knew better, but since when had that ever stopped him? He looked over at Armand, already preparing for death. “Hear that, Mom? When am I getting a baby brother or sister?”

Armand quirked a brow, unamused. He might have lightly slapped Daniel for his troubles, but he did not want to concern Gregory. “You are quite enough on your own, thank you. I’ve not shared my blood with anyone but yourself and Marius and I don’t intend to.” He muttered. “And to answer your question, Gregory, the first hundred years was perfectly easy, after I got past the abduction, torture, starvation and indoctrination of the first three or four.”

“Well, you prove my point,” Gregory smiled at Armand again. He glanced at the time on his phone. “Speaking of brothers, I have to go meet up with Santh in the city.” He packed up his files and laptop and placed them all in a leather case. “I will text you if anything changes for Friday evening.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I posting these chapters too fast? Is this fic too much to keep up with? Should I slow down and space them out more? 😬


	14. Damage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor returns to the castle after a couple years away, and Louis and Lestat finally reconnect.

As delightful as Sydney was, Viktor and Rose were both ready to be home and back to court; Viktor just wished it didn’t have to be under such circumstances. After the scare with the virus, he and Rose had wanted to be home and near family, something that meant so much to them. As soon as they’d been given the clear to return once Fareed developed the cure, they made their arrangements and began the trek back around the globe.

In an upper floor corridor, he rolled a suitcase behind him full of gifts, as he enjoyed buying when he traveled. Fareed, Seth, Louis, Marius, so many on his list, but he wanted to see his father first.

He could sense him in his royal office, and he paused a moment. Should he have called first? Was he busy? No, surely he’d be delighted by a surprise. Parties and surprises and great stories were some of Lestat’s favorite past-times.

So he raised his fist and gave the door several quick, clear knocks. “You in, your highness?” he called with a ringing laugh.

The voice through the door surprised Lestat, as it always did…his own voice. Only so much brighter than Lestat’s had sounded in weeks now. He smiled despite his mood and quickly saved and closed the word document on his computer before going to open the door.

Seeing his son looking so happy cracked some of the iciness out of his chest, and Lestat embraced him affectionately, kissing the side of his face. “What took you so long?” he chided in a low voice.

Viktor kissed him back eagerly, pressing his face to his father’s neck for just a moment.

“Takes a while to get from Sydney, father, kangaroos only hop so fast,” he said, snickering at his own bad joke before Lestat had a chance to. “No, we came as quickly as we could, tying things up. But we’ve been so busy and playing phone tag this whole time. Is everyone ok? I heard Louis was sick, and Armand? And was it really rabies?”

Lestat released him reluctantly then ushered him into the room, though to the side with the couch, not his desk. “Everyone is well again,” he said, his gaze fixed on the door past Viktor as if he might be able to see Louis or Armand through the walls.

There had been no sign of either of them since Lestat had returned last night from his unexpected absence, and he thought by now they must be avoiding him. He could only assume they were as well as he’d last seen them a week ago, at least. “It wasn’t rabies, exactly, although the symptoms were similar. Fareed is absolutely beside himself about it. Have you spoken to him? He wouldn’t tell me where he meant to go.”

Viktor shook his head, lips pressed tight in disappointment. “I got a couple texts from him but nothing that said much. That he’s alright, he needs some quiet space. He gets…he’s always been the intense sort. His work is his life. He needs it as much as he needs the hunt, and he’s always gone through these bouts where all he wants is to find the answer to whatever plagues him. Dad’s always….I mean, Fareed’s always…” Viktor flashed Lestat a brilliant smile, apologetic. “Sometimes I’m still not sure what to call you both. Or what I want to call you.”

Lestat finally met Viktor's eyes, listening intently as he drew him to sit with him. Lestat absorbed what he said about Fareed greedily, eager for any information at all. Then he smiled gently and put a hand to Viktor’s handsome cheek. “Call me Lestat or Father.” Viktor could use the names interchangeably or just choose one as far as Lestat minded. As long as he didn’t get in the habit of using any royal metaphors for him. Lestat hadn’t technically been their King of the Damned—or Prince as he preferred for the sake of the modesty he _did_ in fact possess—since Amel was stolen from his head. But so many people were still in the obnoxious habit of calling him such things.  
  
Brushing a thumb lovingly over Viktor’s skin, Lestat’s hand turned to touch his hair. So much yellower than Lestat’s was anymore, he could almost be jealous. “He really worried me,” he confessed. “You didn’t see him that night…” He projected an image of Fareed’s dejection into Viktor’s mind. “I feared he might seek to end his life… Nothing I could say seemed to get through to him.”

Viktor’s eyes closed tight against the film playing behind them, and he reached up to grab Lestat’s hand firmly. “Fareed loves life too much,” he said firmly. “He would never…I’m just more worried about him going AWOL on Seth… He has to be with Seth, those two are rarely apart from each other… He says it was his fault, but I’ve read your books, everyone’s, cover to cover ‘til my copies fell apart. All due respect, but it seems there’s hardly a one who hasn’t made a truly dire mistake.”

“That’s what I said!” Lestat squeezed Viktor’s hand warmly. “He seems to think he ought to be above such blunders due to his profession. That’s absolutely ridiculous, of course. But he’s intent upon punishing himself for this one.” It relieved Lestat to hear how sure Viktor was that Fareed would not harm himself. If all Fareed was doing was wallowing, well, Lestat could hardly begrudge him that. “Fareed is a formidable vampire. Stronger than many ten times his age. And under my protection. He will manage without Seth if they are not together.” Wallowing alone was sometimes the only way. And honestly, Lestat would rather the court not lose them both at once.

“They must be together,” Viktor said thoughtfully, almost assuredly. “Seth would tell me if they weren’t. He’s a man of fewer words than Fareed. We don’t exactly send each other Snaps, but if he was afraid for him, he’d tell me, he’d go to him…” He sighed, pulling away from Lestat just enough to melt further into the couch. “Is it completely over then? This virus? Or are we looking at some Robin Cook scenario?”

“He assured me before he left that it is over,” Lestat said simply, having no idea if that meant it were actually true or not. If Fareed had abandoned them before it was over, Lestat would probably end up dragging him back to court by his ear.

He turned in his seat to have a better view of Viktor, memorizing the lines of how he sat, thinking how he might describe it on paper. “What are Snaps?”

Viktor had to press his hand to his face, letting out a just too long sigh. “Father, you look entirely too young to go about so tech illiterate,” he whined, looking up at Lestat’s face, so much like his own, their ages close enough as to be indistinguishable. How strange sometimes, he thought, to see him. Growing up, he’d known him from his books, and from photos, from his videos and music, but somehow something in him, something very common and mortal despite knowing better, somehow thought that when he met Lestat he would look…different. Older. “Gregory is on Twitter. Thorne plays video games. Marius knows how to take photos on his phone and text them. You can’t even do that half the time!”

Lestat frowned, irritated. First David and Armand, and now even his own son? Lestat was not tech illiterate! He’d been using computers since he woke up in 1983. He sat back against the corner of the couch, his arm over its back, though his eyes did not leave Viktor. Even when his son was being offensive, he was exceedingly difficult not to look at. “You haven’t answered the question,” he pointed out patiently.

Viktor stared for a moment, but finally had to just shake his head fondly and tuck a loose wave behind his ear. “It’s a…it’s a program, where you can send captioned photos to your friends, and they only last a few seconds. It’s fun! You can send the silliest things… Maybe you’d think it was fun. I could try downloading it for you.” He liked the idea of what sort of ridiculous pictures his father might choose to send.

Besides Viktor and Rose, his literal children, Lestat couldn’t imagine a single one of his friends who would want him to ever send them a photo of himself, caption or no. He could almost laugh at imagining how annoyed they would be if Lestat tried such a thing. Why would Viktor ever assume he’d know about this program? It didn’t sound particularly useful. And Lestat so rarely did anything for fun anymore… “Does Rose use it?” he asked. He got up to go retrieve his iPhone from his desk. It took him a moment to find it, but he eventually unearthed it from between the pages of a dog-eared copy of Hamlet where he’d left it as a bookmark.

“She does, a lot of the court does! It doesn’t have to be pictures of yourself either,” he said patiently, carefully, gleaning just a little of his father’s worries. “You can send photos of where you’ve been, where you’ve flown to, or pretty art work… It’s just fun for keeping in touch, is all.”

Lestat liked the idea of using it with Rose. And Viktor too, of course. Viktor could send him pictures of himself a thousand times a day, and Lestat would still want more. Going back to the couch, he handed the unlocked phone to Viktor, then resumed his seat, facing him sideways. “I have never been very good at keeping in touch… I’d like to do better.”

“Yeah…sometimes your losing your phone over and over is obnoxious,” he teased, browsing through the app store. “Especially when we’re so far apart. We like getting phone calls from you. Do you know how to video chat? We could set that up too, if you thought you could handle a challenge, prince!”

“I’ve done it before,” he answered evasively. It had been long enough that he’d entirely forgotten how he managed it. If Lestat didn’t keep doing something with technology consistently, he had to relearn it every time he tried again. Those things just refused to stick in his brain. But still, he resented the accusations of technological illiteracy. There was plenty he kept up with well enough! He plucked a marble from the vase of the floral arrangement on the end table and flicked it at Viktor in chastisement, hitting him sharply in the shoulder. “I want to know everything you’ve been up to on your travels. Tell me about all of it. Tell me about Australia and what you did there. I’ve never been. It’s…it’s practically as far away from here as you could get.”

“It’s so beautiful,” Viktor said, collecting the marble and chucking it right back at his father, catching him at the collar bone with a smile. “And none of the stuff that wants to kill me can kill me! Got up close with some blue ringed octopus, they’re such neat creatures. Here,” he handed the phone back.

The image of Viktor frolicking in the ocean with the deadly wildlife made Lestat feel a surge of admiration and longing at once. He took the phone back and looked at the app for a minute, not at all understanding what he was seeing. But he’d figure it out somehow. “Thank you, darling.”  
  
“I added us both to your list. I’ve got some of the rest of the court too. I’m sure they would love your running commentary on the differences between French and Venetian lace!”  
  
Lestat rolled his eyes. “Surely they all already know the difference.” Honestly, who wouldn’t? Shifting on the couch, he came closer to Viktor’s side. “Did you take many pictures while you were there? I want to see them all.”

“No you don’t!” Viktor laughed heartily, shaking his head. “We took hundreds! Rose bought me quite a fancy camera, and I’m afraid I fancy myself a photographer now. I guess I take after you in confidence, huh?” he said, still with a mocking lilt to his voice, but with an edge of earnestness to it.

“You have no idea how wrong you are. I literally want to see every single one. Even the blurry ones you took by accident.” Lestat was dead serious about that. “Although I doubt there are any of those. I’m certain you must be a genius at photography.” Again, he was absolutely sincere. Lestat had never been bad at anything he’d seriously put his mind to, so why should Viktor be any different?

Viktor still shook his head, having perhaps a bit more modesty than his father at times. “I’ll send you some of the best ones,” he said in compromise. “I’ll send you a handful a day! In fact,” he continued as though suddenly inspired, “I’ll text them to you, as an incentive to learn to keep your damned phone on you, father! A carrot on a stick!”

Lestat shook his head, too charmed by Viktor’s good spirits to be offended. “Please do.” The only messages Lestat received anymore seemed to always be angry or hostile from those who wanted him to support their own agendas. Pleasant ones from Viktor would be a welcome reprieve. “But you must send me all those ones of Rose. Even if they are not the best. And especially any of you together, if you managed it.”

Not ready to admit to his father that he owned and used a selfie stick (nor ready to have to explain what one was) Viktor just assured Lestat that they had plenty.

“But what of everything here?” Viktor pressed, scooting just a little closer to his father. “Besides the plague, I mean. You’re all right? And Louis? Marius? Oh, perhaps you and Louis and I could hunt together!” Viktor loved a long, leisurely hunt, and though he knew how to do it very well by now, he enjoyed being among the older of the coven and picking up their pointers.

“Yes, let’s. But you’ll have to ask Louis yourself.” He knew Louis would have a much more difficult time turning Viktor down for anything than Lestat. And considering Louis had been avoiding him since Lestat returned, he wasn’t sure such a suggestion ought to be brought up whenever they finally spoke again. The thought of hunting with the two of them together excited Lestat in general, but he was also eager to cling to any company he could in going out. He dreaded leaving the castle alone again after what happened to him the last time. “If he tries to decline, just push a little. You’ll get him in the end.”

Viktor smiled and shook his head calmly. “I don’t think I want to push Louis for anything, Dad—Father,” he said, still catching himself a bit over such a formal name. It didn’t come naturally to him.

A small smirk touched Lestat’s lips as he imagined Viktor pushing Louis for it. He would very much like to see it, see how Louis would react to it. “I do think you could convince him.” Far more than Lestat had faith in his own ability to do so.  
  
“ I would love it! The little drink is still…not so easy for me, and I would just really love to watch you hunt, even though you don’t need to go nearly as often as me.”

“I don’t need to go at all,” Lestat clarified, sitting back slightly to give him more space to study Viktor. He hadn’t needed the blood at all in decades now. “Not that that fact often stops me. But to watch me hunt is to watch me kill. The same goes for Louis. If it is the little drink you prefer, would that be objectionable to you?”

“Oh no!” Viktor assured him quickly. “I’m the one who begged to be turned. Be pretty stupid of me to ask for this if I couldn’t handle it. We do what we need to survive, same as anyone else… I know you all told me, you and Louis and Marius, that the skill comes with time, and I have no issues killing a meal, but it would be convenient…but that’s separate from wanting to watch you hunt!” He wondered how embarrassingly long it would take for his star-struck gushing to finally be replaced entirely with familiar comfort.

Lestat smiled, faintly amused by Viktor’s rambling. He’d certainly never been one to ramble like that himself, had he? How fascinating that their personalities could be so distinct. “You have one thing not quite right there,” he said, sitting forward, closer to Viktor, and speaking as if confidentially, “We do it because we _like_ it.” He smiled and put an affectionate hand on Viktor’s head as he stood from the couch again. “Where is Rose? I want to see her.”

“She’s sleeping. Barely made it to our room before she just claimed the bed and made a nest of it,” said Viktor, picking up the earlier pilfered marble from the floor and tossing it high. It still delighted him how easily he could catch it without even having to focus. “I’ll see if she wants to go as well as Louis…but we could go still, couldn’t we? Even if they decline the offer?”

Lestat paused, turning back to the couch. He took Viktor’s face between his hands, leaning down over him. “Of course we could.” Lestat kissed his forehead, then smoothed his hand over Viktor’s hair. “You and I can go together anytime it pleases us. I would drop just about anything I’m doing to go hunt with you.”

Viktor’s grin was quick to show, but he tried to keep it tempered. He wasn’t a little boy any more, promised a treat or a trip for good behavior. He was a grown man, several years in the blood by now if still a young fledgling, happily wed…but he’d just spent so long wanting to meet his father, and he’d honestly gotten to spend precious little time with him since then. At least not as much as he’d like. All those wild stories from the books were just continuing on, his father leading as adventurous and important a life as he’d thought, and with Viktor starting his life with Rose as well? They had eternity, a few years meant nothing.  
  
What a beautiful smile this boy had… all the delight and innocence of one so young, one who destruction had never touched. Lestat was filled with a desperate urge to shelter and protect him from all harm forever, even though he knew it would not be possible.

Viktor shook his head. “I couldn’t take you from your court, Father. Everyone I can hear is glad you’re back, and only two fledglings mistook me for you this time!”

Lestat laughed softly, imagining what that must have been like for Viktor to be recognized. The fledglings were always too afraid to approach Lestat, he only ever heard them from afar. “Court can spare me,” he said with a faint mischievous smile. It was all so different now, wasn’t it? “I think, just now, I’d let you take me anywhere it pleased you, you perfect creature.”

“Everyone already warns me against taking too much after you, you know, don’t want to inherited your vanity,” Viktor said with a wry grin. With an all too human sigh, he pushed himself from the couch to stand, unable to hide his usual amusement at being an inch taller than Lestat. He rushed to cover the thought with laughter should Lestat’s pride be truly wounded…such a sore subject for him.  
  
“Who warns you about that?” Lestat legitimately wanted to know. Who was out there talking about Lestat as if he were an incompetent father or role model? Not that he thought it was untrue; he was gloriously vain. But what the hell was wrong with that? Viktor had every right to be if he so desired.  
  
“No one important,” he tried to evade, but ah, no… “Well, my mother, but I think she’s mostly joking. And I see it on some of the group chats the coven has going, but again it’s all good fun.” He really wanted his father to understand. He was a famous figure, people would talk, people would gossip. It didn’t bother Viktor. “It’s just nice that everyone knows now, that I’m yours, y’know?”

Lestat’s brow twitched, but he managed to keep it from furrowing obviously. The coven had group chats? The heavy loneliness that had been threatening to crush Lestat for weeks now loomed again over him. And he’d managed to avoid letting it affect him for almost an hour this time…  
  
He focused intently on Viktor’s expression to try to avoid any other thoughts. “I do know,” he said with a tender smile. “And it pleases me more than you can know that you think so. That it’s ‘nice’…” Lestat was so used to being resented by everyone he loved, it still boggled his mind to have someone now who was actually excited to be his.

Viktor’s grin spread across his face, and he felt himself flush as Lestat doted on him. Of course his own parents could be just as loving, but this was so new and so open, and he couldn’t lie; he reveled in it. This was Lestat de Lioncourt, Brat Prince, rock star, the untamable blood drinker, and of all his fledglings or family, Viktor alone could say he was _his_ by blood, by DNA, and he loved how obvious it was by looks alone. He just felt…proud, was all. Even if sometimes it was still awkward. He was still getting to know Lestat as a person, after all.

“Why wouldn’t it be ‘nice?’” he asked. “Any vampire would jump at the chance to even taste your blood, let alone be made by it.”

Lestat shook his head and made a dismissive gesture with his hands. “You were made by a far better vampire than I,” he said lightly. He yearned to touch Viktor again, to pull him close in a long embrace, but something kept him from it this time. He turned back to cross to his desk and put the computer to sleep.

Viktor stood a bit awkward, still not use to reading his father’s body language. He’d looked ready to approach him, yet seemed to have remembered something quickly. “Marius is…fine…” Viktor admitted hesitantly. “But he’s…very traditional. And old…I’m grateful!” He clarified quickly. “To have Marius’s blood, but I wouldn’t call him far better than you.”

Lestat chuckled and glanced up at Viktor over the giant monitor on his desk. The awkward reply surprised him, and he wondered if there were some issue between Viktor and Marius that Lestat didn’t know about. Had they somehow disappointed each other? Lestat wasn’t about to debate Marius’s merits as a vampire versus his own, though. He’d asked Marius to make Viktor for good reason, after all.

Coming back to Viktor, Lestat gave him a reassuring smile, hoping to ease his awkwardness. “Go look for Louis,” he said gently. “You know I can’t find him on my own. Then we’ll meet to go in half an hour, with or without him. Call me when you find him? Whether you can convince him or not. Or Snap me,” he added in an attempt to lighten his own heavy heart.

Viktor nodded, was about to turn to leave, but it was his turn now to second guess his actions, a mirror to his father. Leaning over the desk with grace, he took Lestat’s face in his hands as Lestat had done for him, and kissed the sharp bones of each cheek.

“I’ll find dear Louis, and a half hour ‘til we leave for the city,” he repeated his directions, feeling as excited as a boy promised a trip out.

But Viktor’s promise was in vain. Louis was nowhere to be found, and so father and son went out to hunt without him.

————————————

It was not until the following evening that Lestat finally saw Louis again.

Since he’d made it back to the castle after his unexpected three nights away, Lestat had spent part of each night wandering through it, looking at the rooms and spaces as if seeing them for the first time. The ballroom looked cavernous when it was so empty. The stage at front seemed almost shabby with all of the instruments and chairs cleared away, except for the grand piano that always lived there. In a way, it saddened him to think that this room would not be used again for so long, but not enough to change his mind about clearing the calendar. Even though the danger of the virus was past, Lestat kept all the court’s social events cancelled.  
  
He stopped at the piano, running his hands over it, then sat at the bench. He opened the lid, but just stared at the keys for a long while, not making any move to touch them. This wasn’t his piano, after all. Not really. It was Sybelle’s and Antoine’s and those musicians who really knew how to evoke magic from it. He wondered what they were all doing with their time now…

Meanwhile, Louis was looking for Lestat. He was hoping there was a good explanation for his elusive behavior. Though he would not say it out loud, he was worried. Eventually, his search brought him to the ballroom. He opened the door a crack at first, but then slowly entered the room when he saw Lestat sitting at the piano. “This is a strange place to hide out,” he said. His voice carried across the room.

Lestat’s head snapped up at the sound, and he looked across the vast room to him to the door. The sight of Louis was enough to make some of the tension seep from his shoulders and bring a soft smile to his face. “I’m not hiding,” he said, though even as he spoke, he had to wonder. Is that what he was doing? But no… He was searching, wasn’t he? He closed the lid of the piano and stood.

Louis stayed where he was, near the door. He felt a mix of emotions ranging from anger to love, and he did not know which one would manifest if he came any closer. “Then what are you doing? I saw a glimpse of Viktor and thought he was you at first glance.”

“How you flatter me,” Lestat said with a hint of humor, though his voice was still quiet. He’d never get tired of how much his son looked like him…like he used to look before fire and so much ancient blood had hardened and faded him. 

“That wasn’t my intention,” Louis said although he didn’t mean to sound harsh. 

Coming down the steps off the stage, Lestat began to cross the space to Louis, though he wasn’t moving quickly. His gaze went up to the painted ceiling as he considered how to answer Louis’s question, and the images of all his loved ones up there made his heart ache. “I’m just…making sure nothing fell to pieces in my absence.”

Louis kept his eyes fixed upon him as he approached. He could see the distraction in the way Lestat looked at the ceiling. “Are you really?” he asked, not sounding convinced. “If you’re looking for damage, you’re looking in the wrong place.”

Lestat lowered his eyes back to Louis, and his brow pinched. He could feel some of the inner strength he’d managed to build back up over the last couple nights since his return begin to crumble again. He didn’t really want to think Louis had been _avoiding_ him, he was here now after all, but Lestat still couldn’t dismiss the pain of the suspicion.

As he reached him, Lestat put a hand to Louis’s arm. “You’re angry with me…”

Louis furrowed his brow. “I suppose I am… You just left. Not a word,” he said quietly. “And now you have no explanation.” He did not pull away from the touch. “I was hoping you’d have a good reason… Have you even spoken to your son?”

Lestat’s fingers curled against Louis’s sleeve, craving the solidness of his arm beneath it. He sighed softly and his gaze fell from Louis’s eyes to look slightly past him instead, at nothing in particular.

No one had even asked Lestat for an explanation besides David. And David hadn’t seemed to really want it even then, so Lestat had demurred. The major impression Lestat had gotten was that no one else had cared at all where he’d been or why, as long as he’d come back. Which he’d managed to, thank god. And he hadn’t even been gone long enough for anyone except Louis to actually mind his absence at all.

“I have spoken to him,” he answered, lifting his eyes to Louis again, pressing his arm affectionately before releasing it. “He told me all about his travels.”

Louis didn’t try to hide his surprise. “So you weren’t traveling together?” he asked.

It was Lestat’s turn to be surprised. “Together?” He shook his head. Where would he have ever gotten that idea? His lips pressed tightly as he studied Louis’s downcast expression, his heart aching. “I do have a reason for staying away,” he finally said softly. “But it’s not a good one.”

Louis lifted his gaze, for he had a need to look at Lestat to hear this reason. “I still want to hear it. You owe me that much.” The bitterness returned to his voice.

He stepped up to Louis and put an arm around his shoulders, pressing him gently to walk with him toward the grand balcony doors. “Of course I’ll tell you,” he said quietly. “I’ll tell you all about it. I’ve been writing it down…although I doubt I’ll do anything with the words. It’s all very stupid, really. And I am sorry for it.”

Again, Louis didn’t shake him off as they waslked. He missed this feeling, the closeness far too much, and he hated himself for not being able to express his feelings because of it. “Another novel?” he inquired, seeming to perk up at the prospect. “That would not be stupid…”

Lestat shrugged. It wasn’t anything worth making a novel out of…at least not yet… but Lestat had been having a strong feeling lately that something important, something crucial, or even terrifying was about to happen. And if he didn’t capture it on paper now, he might not later have the chance.

He stopped and turned to face Louis directly, feeling that twinge of pain again at seeing his expression now after Louis had kept his distance so long. “I am sorry it made you upset,” he said, using David’s word.

“Are you? Or are you only trying to starve off another argument?” he prodded.

He smiled at Louis a little sadly, squeezing him around the shoulders. “Do you want to argue with me?” he asked, half seriously. “Then let’s argue. I can be sorry and argue at once.” Turning back toward the doors, he continued the rest of the way there with Louis and opened them to go out on the terrace.

Louis followed. “No, I’m not here to pick a fight. Not today,” he said with a soft smile. The cool, evening air was a welcome contrast to that within the castle. “Though you still have not told me much of anything.”

Lestat kept going until they reached the railing of the balcony, and then he put his hands down on it and looked out over the forest-covered mountainside. They were on the opposite side of the castle from the village, so all that was in sight beyond the gardens was the wilderness.

Tilting his head back, he looked up at the stars that blanketed the skies above. “What do you think happens?” he mused. “If we go straight up and just keep going? Would anything ever stop us? What about when the atmosphere runs out… Would we just… stop? Would it be like hitting a wall? Would we be trapped out of gravity, never able to return? Trapped until the sun rises? Would we lose consciousness and fall? Or just… keep going with no end?”

“The vacuum of space is not suitable for our kind. Nor man for that matter,” Louis said. He’d decided this long ago although it was admittedly baseless. His own gaze lingered upon the sky. “For one thing, there is no night and there are many suns.”

The thought of being trapped up there, floating, unable to control direction or powers made Lestat shudder in repulsion. It was perhaps the most terrifying thing he could conceive of. But it couldn’t be possible, could it? Even the most powerful of their kind surely couldn’t accomplish using the cloud gift to rise so high. There had to be something that would stop them from getting so far. But what would it _be like_? His head tilted back all the way, and his hand reached to the side, grasping Louis’s arm. “I want to try it. See what happens. If I end up falling, will you fly up and catch me?”

“If there is anything left to catch,” Louis warned, hoping his tone would discourage this. “You don’t understand. There is no day or night, just eternal exposure to the sun. That will end you. And I cannot bear the thought.”

Lestat blinked and tore his gaze from the night sky, turning to face Louis instead. “Can you not?” He smiled just a little, warmed by the sentiment, and he put a hand to the side of Louis’s face, his fingers slipping into the black hair at his temple. “Do you think the pressure would matter?” he mused, sounding more hypothetical now than as if he actually meant to jump off the balcony and do it. “How much pressure do you think our bodies can handle? Would too much shatter us to pieces?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Science is not in my wheelhouse. I’ve read a few books on the subject, but I won’t pretend to understand.” He was relieved, at least, to hear Lestat’s shift in tone.

Lestat shook his head a little, feeling the exact same way. So much of these matters seemed permanently beyond his comprehension no matter how much he read. His eyes swept Louis’s face for a silent moment, then he released him and turned back to the balcony, putting his hands on the railing again and looking back out at the mountain, though not really seeing it. “You’ve never gone into the earth,” he said much more quietly after another moment. “You don’t know what it’s like…”

“Is that where you were for three nights?” Louis asked. “In the earth?”

“No,” Lestat answered on a breath. His hands curled against the stone to hide how they’d begun to tremble. “I was…buried, yes… In a way. But someplace far less comforting.” And he hadn’t meant to stay there. Had never meant it to last three nights. He’d only wanted to see what it was like… Oh, god, if he hadn’t managed to escape by sheer stroke of luck alone, he’d be there still!

“Lestat…” Louis was almost afraid to touch him until a red tear splashed against the back of Lestat’s hand. And then Louis came near and did not speak again as he listened to the tale pour out of Lestat in barely whispered words. A tale of blood and the sea…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So remember how back at the beginning when I told you that this fic already had more than 100k words on it? Well, I kind of lied... It actually has more than one million words on it...and it's still going strong with new stuff being added. I just didn't want to scare you away. But I figure if you've gotten this far, then you must be into it, so I hope you're enjoying! What I've posted so far is JUST the beginning. The real drama hasn't even started yet, but the powder keg is about to get ignited. Hope you like explosions!


	15. Taunting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David and Daniel learn that playing with fire will get them burned, meanwhile Armand and Marius have a fight with an unexpected outcome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I should put a CW here about incoming violence. It's not graphic enough for me to think I need to check the box to tag it on the fic. But definitely a bit of violence and some dub-con blood drinking in this chapter. But I mean, you know, they're bloodthirsty vampires. It was bound to show up eventually.

David settled in a leather armchair in the far back of the library with a book he’d purchased in Paris about Africa and wildlife in the Serengeti. He stretched his legs out in front of him and began reading, hoping for a long evening alone.

Daniel didn’t want to go back in the library, he really didn’t. He stood outside the heavy double doors glaring at them, knowing David was inside, but he _needed_ his laptop charger, and he’d left it in there, god damn it!

David dropped his book to his knee with a sigh and listened carefully to the troubled emotions and the surface thoughts of Daniel on the other side of the library doors. He felt badly about having scared Daniel the other night. But he also still found it to be rather sporting and fun to do so. He stood and went to the little alcove where Daniel usually sat, found the charger, and stuffed it in his suit pocket. He then returned to his seat with his book.

Daniel finally found his god damned balls; this was his home the same as it was David’s. He let himself in, resolutely not looking at David as he made his way to his usual corner where…huh…no charger. Huh…okay, maybe over at…oh. David’s table. 

David held up the charger and raised a brow at Daniel. “The look on your face right now is priceless. All over this little bit of electrical cord and plastic? Don’t be frightened, I’m going to give it to you. It would be rude not to. Just come get it.”

…Oh for Christ sake, Daniel was not up for this tonight. “Trying to bait me over to you?” he asked, bunching up his shoulders into the well-known gesture of _what the fuck?_ “David, come on. Stop trying to entice me into the back of your van.”

David laughed a little under his breath. He got up from his seat, walked casually over to Daniel, stood just slightly too close, and held the charger out for him. “Here, take it.”

Daniel swayed back a bit, arching at the hips, but stood his footing as firm as he could. David terrified him, so many of the others terrified him. His first night born to darkness and so many died all around them, and then he emerged from the madness of his fledgling brain only for it to be happening again with more burnings.

Daniel’s hand shook slightly as he reached up for the charger, and he wondered for a humiliating moment whatever happened to The Boy, who begged Louis for the blood and survived a thousand fights with Armand.

This was sad, suddenly, for David. Daniel was like a deer in the headlights. No sport anymore at all. He let the charger go easily and stepped away. He ran a hand back through his own hair and looked away from Daniel with a sigh.

“I apologize, Daniel, that I frighten you,” he said softly. “I’m just playing. Usually I have Lestat to play these games with, but he is absent or busy all the time.” And now apparently had moved into Louis’s rooms. He turned and went back to his chair at the back of the library.

“What’s your deal?” Daniel asked sharply, staring after David as he retreated, his body still coiled. _Oh shit Danny_ , he told himself, _you_ _’re making a mistake_. “Why do you want to just toy with people? With me?”

David froze then turned back to Daniel with a scowl. “I’m trying to apologize and let you go, and you’re jabbing at me with pointy sticks?” David shut his eyes and made a quick prayer to some different gods. “I think I just explained it, didn’t I?”

“No, you explained what you did, but I don’t understand why,” Daniel pressed, seeming actually rather upset. “When Armand or Marius aren’t around, I don’t start treating people I barely know as if they are them. So why are you? You’re so much more stable through Lestat’s eyes, Mr. Talbot.”

Stable was an interesting word. David thought about it for a moment. “I like danger, Daniel. I’m rather like Lestat in that regard. And teasing you is dangerous because Armand and Marius are a threat. But it isn’t much fun when you’re being a rabbit. That’s too easy.” David watched Daniel closely. “And how stable are you, by the way? Stable has many meanings.”

Daniel didn’t know whether to feel frightened or offended at this point. Lucky for him the knot in his stomach let him have both at the same time. “It does, so how do you mean it when you ask me?”

David clasped his hands behind his back and focused intently on Daniel. “I mean it as in, how are you handling your emotions, your understanding of your life right now, and all those lovely existential questions. How is your stability, Daniel?”

Ha! What a good question! Daniel didn’t know himself half the time. Going with Gregory to his TED talk on Friday was the first real structure he’d had since coming here, the only excitement since seeing Armand so sick.

“I’m fine,” he said clearly, still not wanting to back up if David wasn’t going to. “Just still getting settled in the chateau, still. It’s only been a few weeks…”

David didn’t know what he expected. Maybe a slightly more complex answer. “Well, as long as you’re settling in,” he said, placing just the right touch of sarcasm in it. He reached over and brushed a piece of random fluff off Daniel’s arm.

Maybe it was because he was so on edge. Maybe it was because Armand had been so tired and distant lately, one of his only ties to the castle. Maybe it was his frazzled and skittish nerves as of late or David’s’s movements appearing quicker to an excitable vampire than intended. He could make up a dozen excuses or search for a dozen explanations, but the fact still stood that as soon as Daniel felt the brush of the other’s hand on him, his only instinct was to fight.

His fist raised, and struck David on his right cheek, in a manner that seemed to be a solid blow to Daniel, stronger than people gave him credit for, but whether it so much as startled David, he couldn’t say in the first terrifying moment after.

David was surprised by the sudden strike. He tasted blood in his mouth and realized his lip was bleeding. He touched a finger to it to confirm it was. He laughed a little at this turn in Daniel. “So you do have some fight in you?” He stepped back a bit, paced a little in front of Daniel as the cut on his lip healed quickly. What would he do about this? He glanced dangerously at Daniel.

Daniel stood firm, shoulders square. He didn’t cut nearly as impressive a form as David. He’d died sick from alcohol and exhaustion and God knows whatever else. He weighed 130 pounds clothes on, a spindly thing of wire scraps, but that had to affect his vampiric blood. “I do,” he affirmed, keeping his gaze locked on David. “But unlike some, I don’t go out looking for a hunt besides a meal.”

David had to laugh at that. He paused in front of Daniel and fixed him with a sharp look. “That’s untrue, Daniel. You’re standing here now, baiting me. Every time I apologize and walk away, you draw me back instead of just leaving. I think you’re enjoying this, and you don’t want to admit it to yourself.” David touched Daniel’s lower lip with the finger that still had blood on it from his own cut.

It was instinct, pure and simple to taste the blood on his lip, but as soon as the sparks went off in his chest from it, Daniel regretted it, and bit quietly into his own tongue so the taste of his own blood would overpower David’s. “I’m not baiting you, David Talbot, I’m holding you responsible for bating me, and not letting you just run off to go play games on someone else! Go stalk some deer in the woods or something!”

“I think I would rather stay here, and you can be the deer,” David said with a dangerously soft edge. He could smell the blood in Daniel’s mouth, and it was beyond tantalizing. Would Armand really mind if David touched Daniel just a little?

He bit into his own tongue with a fang, leaned in quickly, and kissed Daniel, making sure their blood mingled in this kiss.

Daniel was paralyzed as David’s blood pressed past his lips along with his tongue, and when he could move, it was only to grab hold of David’s clothes, his shirt, his suit lapels. He neither clung to him nor shoved him away, only held to steady himself as his legs wanted to give out beneath him. He wanted to bite at him, to spit the blood back in his face, hell, to knee him in the crotch if he could, but Daniel couldn’t make his body move.

David let go of Daniel and lifted his head, looking down on his face. His violet eyes, so pretty in the dim lights of this library. Daniel had gone frozen rather than react the way David was used to with such a blood exchange kiss. He dropped his hands from Daniel and stood still. “You’re wrinkling my suit with that death grip you have on me,” he said quietly, hoping Daniel wouldn’t get ruffled by this comment as well.

Panting and breathless from the blood, Daniel kept David’s eyes on his own, and began to slowly loosen the claw-like grip he had on the man’s suit. But before David could untangle them, Daniel raised his foot, hooking it behind David’s knee, and pulled hard, sending David unbalanced and falling to a kneel. From there, it was easy to shove him onto his back and press his hands to David’s shoulders. Daniel was small, he was young, and David had been made by Lestat. But Daniel had de Romanus blood, old blood, and could hold his own.

The kiss Daniel gave back then held no tenderness and was, in fact, more fang than lip or tongue.

This was a bit of a turn. David had not expected this reaction at all. He lay still and let Daniel do what he wanted with this biting kiss for a while, for fear of scaring him off from it again. He kissed back sharply, a low growl in his throat at the tease of so much blood. This was getting messy, though, and he could just imagine the blood getting on the carpet and then Lestat having a fit over it. So he reached a hand up and fisted it in Daniel’s ashen blond hair and pulled him back. He shut his eyes and licked the rest of the blood from his own lips then opened them again, still holding Daniel off with a hand gripping his hair.

“Well, you take a lot of foreplay to get to this part, don’t you,” he said with a dark look. He eyed Daniel’s throat and considered his options. He used his strength and shoved Daniel over onto his back and pinned him down, licking at his throat.

Daniel grit his teeth, not sure if he wanted that feeling, it he wanted any of this, but he didn’t want to stop it either. What was this to David? Lust? Bloodlust at least, sure, but for Daniel, it was something different. For Daniel it was anger and bitterness and possession. Maybe even a broiling territorial urge, to claim this room as his if not the man above him. “Bite me then. You chased me around like a fucking madman, take what you want, you coward.”

David yanked Daniel’s head back sharply, pressing him hard against the floor and giving no room to struggle against him. He snarled down at Daniel, “You wretched little tease! This is why you need some lessons in manners!”

David drove his fangs in hard, pulling sharply on the blood as it flowed into him, not at all interested in Daniel’s ability to handle such an aggressive withdrawal of so much blood at once. He let the images of Daniel’s life envelop him as he pulled more of the heated blood in. Poor little Daniel with his life gone tragically sideways after one chance encounter at a bar. He experienced what was at first the panic-driven running away from Armand’s constant stalking, and then the eventual slow decline into acceptance of it. He watched all of it unfold in the blood.

As the visions continued and the hot blood flooded into his veins, David eventually slowed his pulling on Daniel and let Daniel’s heart catch up a little as he simply held him down against the floor, mouth against his throat, letting the blood flow slow.

Daniel shook beneath him, dizzy and head swimming, feeling like he was lying on the deck of a boat in the middle of a swelling storm. He’d never had someone take so much from him, not without giving back at least. And just then, Daniel wasn’t sure he even could bite David back, even if he wanted to. David’s face was hard to focus on.

“You like what you see?” he asked of his “partner” with a heavily sarcastic flirtatious tone, hoping to not slur. “You want to discipline me or you want to make a blood mate of me? Either way, you’ve got big shoes to fill, Mr. Talbot.”

David stared down at Daniel’s glazed eyes with a certain satisfaction. “You’re a real mess right now, Daniel. You don’t have a lot of room to be taunting me,” he said with his upper-class British inflection. “I don’t think you can handle discipline from me at this moment.”

He slipped hand through Daniel’s hair, watching the strands slide through his fingers. “You’re rather pretty, you know? In a hungry wraith-like fashion.” He leaned down and kissed along Daniel’s jaw, licked the healing wounds at his throat. He purred deeply against his ear, “You want my blood, don’t you? Beg for it…just a little.”

“I don’t beg anymore, so fuck off!” Daniel snarled, curling his upper lip as though to show his fangs, which in this half-mad stupor seemed just the thing to do. “I don’t want your blood, you arrogant British bastard! Some of us can actually control ourselves!” Which Daniel knew was rich talk from one who still couldn’t hunt without killing, who woke ravenous, and who felt nearly nauseous with vertigo. But fuck David Talbot!

David laughed at this brave defiance. It seemed too cruel to make him suffer too long though. He wasn’t that inconsiderate. “So proud, Daniel. Shall I leave you here then, flat on the library floor, too weak to go crawl back to your maker?” He bit into his own tongue until blood filled his mouth, then kissed Daniel, giving him a taste of what he was missing out on.

Daniel didn’t want these kisses, didn’t want this blood, not truly, but those inhuman instincts did, and the taste was even sweeter now that he was so ravenous for it. Swallowing the meager offering greedily, he felt the boat still slightly, not yet finding land but at least stiller water.

When David pulled away, though, he did not go far at all, and still hovered just inches from Daniels face with that self-satisfied fucking grin.

So, still dizzy, Daniel let the last swallow of blood pool in his mouth a moment longer before spitting it straight back into David’s face.

As soon as the realization set in that Daniel had truly just spit blood back in his face, David lost all semblance of being at all pleasant from this point on. Fury took over his entire being.

“You little pile of common street trash!” he roared. He slapped Daniel sharply across the face, grabbed him by the collar and slammed his head into the floor repeatedly.

David stood and yanked him by the hair and shoved him to the very back of the library where he slammed him against some shelves of books and tore into Daniel’s throat violently this time, drawing out more blood until Daniel was a limp rag in his arms. Then he let him go, watching him slide to the floor there at the base of the shelves.

David went back to the chair he’d been in originally and sat down, watching Daniel lay there. He wiped the blood off his face with a clean handkerchief from his pocket. He tried to calm this violence in himself. There was no call for this. It was so improper of him to do this. How could he cover this up? He looked around the library absently.

Daniel felt the cuts along the back of his head slowly knit together as the pounding slowed. The ringing in his ears, though, was not so quick to leave him, and he couldn’t recall exactly what had just happened. David? Yes, David was… somewhere. He could taste his own blood in his mouth, caught between his teeth, but there was another taste there, too.

Jesus, he hurt, and it was difficult to get himself sat upright, and once he had, staying upright caused him to feel physically sick, not a feeling he was used to anymore.

David had been watching. His temper had dissolved some time ago, and now he was waiting for someone to enter the library and find them here. There was no way this had gone unheard out there in the main rooms of the court. He fully expected Armand or Marius to come charging in, but it hadn’t happened yet. Curious. David couldn’t think of a way to avoid any revenge Armand might seek for this other than to run from the court. But he was not cowardly like that.

Daniel was waking up over there, in pain. He watched him for a few minutes more, and then David stood and went to him, kneeling down and brushing the hair from his forehead. Poor Daniel. He hadn’t meant for it to get this violent, and David did feel something for him now that he’d drank from him. Something he couldn’t really define. He pulled Daniel into his arms, hushing him when he made some pained sounds. He wrapped one arm around Daniel so that his wrist was at his mouth, and he bit into it for him, watched the dark red well up immediately and drip against Daniel’s mouth. “Drink, my darling,” he whispered against Daniel’s temple as he cradled him there between the bookcases.

Darling. Armand was the only one who called Daniel that and only on the rarest occasions, alone and intimate, but it was not Armand’s blood pouring into his mouth now, nor was it Marius’s. Someone held him firm, someone warm, whereas he was so cold.

He decided quickly he didn’t want this blood, despite having choked down two swallows of it. It sat in his belly like a stone as he tried to pull away from whoever held him, his head pounding with each movement.

David was relieved to see Daniel take at least a few gulps of the healing blood. But he could read too easily his thoughts as he fed. He was disgusted by this process, rejecting any attempt at help or caring David was offering.

“Why are you being so bloody difficult, Daniel,” David asked. “If you hadn’t taunted me so many times, this would never have happened to you. I thought you wanted a new blood mate. Isn’t that what you asked me for back there on the floor? Don’t you like this dominant/submissive game? I know you play it with Armand.”

David forced the blood on Daniel now, feeding him more of it, holding his head in a strong grip and his wrist against his mouth. Finally, he let him go after several long minutes. He knelt beside Daniel on the floor, looking fiercely at him. “If you tell Armand this was anything other than mutual, I will make sure he sees just how much of it you were begging for.” With that, he stood and left the library.

Daniel laughed quietly on the library floor until the sound of David’s footsteps faded. Blood sweat gathered cold on his skin, and he shook from it, from weakness, from the pain only just starting to lessen. What the hell…? Was that really David? Gentle, proper David?

Eventually, he got himself sat up, no longer dizzy, but he shook all the same, and swayed heavily as he tried to stand. How the hell would he make it back up to his room like this? And with such a sick feeling in his stomach? Could he vomit? He supposed he could, knew they could, and he wanted to just then. And then he wanted to curl in bed and sleep for a week.

—————————————————

Armand had taken the night to himself, and he planned to see no-one, tuned out the entire world. Since his recovery from the virus, he’d been here and there with almost everyone, and he felt just about tired of interaction. Almost everyone except the one person he wished to see above all. Marius had remained so elusive that Armand’s longing had soon transitioned into righteous indignation. What had he done to earn such neglect from his maker? And it had festered to the point where he could not stand to see anyone at all.

As he returned from a hunt, he quietly hoped that he would be safe on the chateau’s roof in his solitude. He made his way between turrets and sat, legs dangling off to the deadly drop below. Deadly to mortals. Not for him, of course. And that reassurance was almost invigorating.

However, it just so happened that Marius himself was on the far end of the roof, painting the evening sky and the landscape it illuminated. Of course, he saw Armand, but rather than approach him, he focused only on his painting and pretended not to. He too had been tuning out the world tonight.

Armand hadn’t sensed Marius, not immediately, because it was clear that he did not want to be sensed. But then he caught his movement out of the corner of his eye. The unmistakable shimmer of platinum hair against the moonlight.

Well, fine. For all it enraged him, Armand would not entertain it. Would not play into it. Marius had been avoiding him for nights now, and he was damn near sick of having to cater to this behavior.

Marius continued to paint, but it was clear his heart was no longer in it. He felt Armand’s gaze upon him, and it made him more self-conscious. Or perhaps guilty was the better word. “Was there something you wanted to say Armand?” His voice carried across the peaks and angles of the roof without needing to be raised.

“I am not here for you,” Armand said curtly after a long moment, turning his gaze back to the landscape. There were several things he wanted to say to him, but Armand chose to remain silent.

“Mind your tone,” Marius warned. He had an air of calm, but the anger was bubbling beneath the surface. Though Armand was not the target of this anger. No, this was directed at himself.

“Mind yourself, you crotchety bastard,” Armand muttered, holding very little tolerance for Marius’s attitude. He had decided that there was a problem, made something out of nothing, and Armand was tired of trying to get him to open up, and Armand would not be punished for it.

“Do you want to say that again? I might be hard of hearing in my age,” Marius retorted with equal venom. It was clearly a challenge.

“I said, mind. Yourself. You crotchety. Bastard.” Armand spoke slowly and plainly, as if Marius truly were hard of hearing. And so what if he wanted a fight of this? Armand did not. But he would give it to him.

Marius raised a brow but did not speak. His expression hardened, and there was ice behind his eyes. “I see,” he replied coolly.

Armand rolled his eyes. He made no secret of it. In fact, he removed himself from the turrets and gave one long glance to Marius, his own eyes ablaze with rage. “Get a grip. You need to start growing up before your avoidance tactics pay off and you see none of me at all,” he chastised, feeling very much as though their roles had been reversed as he made his way to the stairs. Clearly this spot was occupied.

Those words cut Marius like a knife. Initially, his rage flared up, but he waited for it to subside before speaking. “Do you really want nothing of me?” he asked. A hint of vulnerability could be heard in his voice. He spoke quietly, sounding much younger now.

Armand stopped. He turned back to him, shoulders deflating ever so slightly. “Marius,” he began, exasperation tainting his tone as he took one step forward and looked into his maker’s eyes. “What I want of you, you cannot give me. I want you, in your entirety. Not all to myself, you understand, never that. But I want you to open up your soul to me. And to stop being afraid. I am tired of begging for you to let yourself be vulnerable, I’m tired of begging like a devoted bride. I am not that. I am a powerful thing in my own right now, and I haven’t the heart to quarrel with you.”

Marius listened. He wanted to plead with Armand, to tell him that he was trying. But he didn’t want to sound like the man who always promised to change and never would. “I am in awe of your power, Amadeo,” he said. He spoke genuinely. “I fear it. You do not need me anymore, and I recognize that.” He swallowed thickly and, in a blink, joined Armand on his section of the roof.

Armand shook his head, glancing downward. “There is nothing to fear. You could still crush me in your hands. Your power over me is still immense. And of course, I need you. What I mean to say is I am also needed elsewhere now. I am a member of council with valued opinions and sought after advice. I do not have the time to pine after you, or to plead with you, or to devote to you as I once did.”

Marius stood in silence, allowing Armand to speak. He only dared say his piece when he had finished. “I fear I am losing you,” he said simply. “And the fear is my own doing, for I’ve been keeping myself scarce to make the inevitable abandonment easier.”

Armand frowned deeply, taken aback by the confession. “Why do you fear losing me? Marius I have never not wanted you. Did I not just say that? I want all of you, far too much for my own good,” he murmured. “Making yourself scarce has frustrated me, yes, but you will forever be…” he trailed off, trying to find the right words.

Marius wasn’t sure how to easily explain his answer, or rather how to explain it at all. He mulled over a few possibilities and settled on none of them. “Forever be what?” he coaxed, sounding unsure himself.

“Mine…my maker, my lover? My…one…the one person that will always be there?” He fumbled quickly and quietly, truly not having a word for it before he looked to Marius for confirmation. As he always had done, always would. “What would you like to be?”

Marius relaxed upon hearing this. The words lifted a weight that had been pressing down upon him for far too long. “I do not think there is a word to describe such a thing,” he admitted. “But I will do my best to avoid being so scarce.”

“I think Lestat and Louis have one,” Armand said boldly after a moment, but felt incredibly foolish. How could Marius ever think they would compare to that? He shook his head. “No matter. You do what you like. Just…stop fretting.”

Marius raised a brow. “Do they? I’d like to hear it.” He said, not sounding in the least bit condescending. He reached out and offered Armand his hand, although he expected to be turned down.

“Chrysanthe uses it for Gregory…it’s a rather mortal term,” Armand murmured, glancing down at Marius’s fine hand so he wouldn’t have to look into his eyes. He could not bring himself to say the word, but he also could not bring himself to drop this. Some part of him, some far off childish fantasizing part of him wanted it for them too. And why shouldn’t they have it, if others got to? “H-husband…” He took Marius’s hand and held it, unsure of what else to do. “But no.”

Marius understood what he meant now. But the new mystery was why Armand did not want to say it aloud. “You want to be my husband, Amadeo.” His expression softened further. He looked around before retracting his hand. He did so gently. Marius then gingerly took off the ancient signet ring he’d been wearing since his mortal life. “If you wish to be my husband, you are going to need a ring,” he said as he slipped the ring on Armand’s finger.

Armand stared down at it in disbelief. This couldn’t be happening to him, this was wishful thinking. This was an indulgent fantasy. “You don’t truly want it…do you?” he asked very quietly, surprised by how perfectly the ring fit, as if it were meant for him. Marius’s signet ring… His last physical tie to his world of ancient Rome.

“You have my heart, Amadeo. You occupy my thoughts. You’re more than my muse.” He spoke in his usual soothing tone, his eyes held warmth and fondness. “If this is not what you were implying…”

“It is what I was implying. I said the word myself!” Armand spoke with a little urgency, as if afraid this opportunity would pass him by. As if afraid that this dream would shatter at any moment. “I only know how important this ring is to you. I want to be sure that you mean it… It’s a promise. A promise we should mean to keep to one another.”

Marius smiled softly. “I do not doubt you will care for it in the way you care for me,” he said, deflecting momentarily as he gathered his thoughts. “Yes, it is a promise, caro mío, and you have my word that I will try not to fall into old habits.”

Armand couldn’t help but don a smile at this. Slow at first, but it spread wider as he looked down at his hand. He adored the way it looked, the way it glinted in the moonlight. And his heart sang to think of what it meant.


	16. Revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gregory warns Lestat about David's deeds, and Lestat has to put his coven master hat on to keep Armand from exacting revenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Vampire violence in this chapter and discussion of rape.  
> This chapter's a long one, but it's the one that sets the entire course of the rest of the fic in motion, so I hope you enjoy!

Lestat was sitting at his desk in his office. He’d meant to open up his word document and continue writing down everything about what had happened to him, at the chateau and on the sea…before it was too late…but he hadn’t even gotten as far as waking up the computer. After spilling out to Louis the other night about all that he’d done, it should have been that much simpler. But now Lestat was only staring at the black monitor, his mind entirely elsewhere.

Gregory knocked firmly at Lestat’s office door. He was just back from an evening event he’d had to attend for work and still dressed in a dark suit and tie. He was not looking forward to this conversation he needed to have with the Prince.

Lestat jumped. Actually jumped, like a mortal might, startled by the sharp sound at the door. He blinked at his screen. Where had the images gone? Or had they never been there? Putting the heel of his palm against the bridge of his nose he took a shuddering breath and then glanced to the door.  
  
“Just come in,” he said impatiently. He couldn’t even tell who it was. He tried to concentrate and only after a delayed moment realized it was Gregory.

Gregory entered, noting the impatient tone. He had actually not seen Lestat for more than a few minutes at a time since his return from…wherever he’d been. Gregory gave him a somewhat forced smile. “I’m sorry if I’m bothering you. You know I wouldn’t if it wasn’t important.”

Lestat blinked at Gregory from his desk, for a moment wondering if he were really there. But then he stood, realizing in a delayed way that he should have risen sooner. That he was being rude. And yet he couldn’t help himself. “Why not?” he asked, in the same tone. “You are never a bother to me.” Gregory should know better than that by now. And what was _important_ , anyway? Such a meaningless word…

Gregory went around the desk to Lestat and embraced him warmly, kissing his hair. “Of course, I know. I simply see that you are looking more weary than usual lately. I don’t mean to disrupt you.” Gregory stepped back and examined Lestat closer. “How are you feeling?”

Lestat grasped Gregory by the back of the elbows to return the embrace, though his gaze went to one of the mirrors on the wall. Did he look weary? Was such a thing possible for their kind? He couldn’t fathom it. He’d been sleeping more than ever lately. Waking up far after sunset, taking a long nap every night as well.

He shook his head dismissively. “Fine, fine.” He offered Gregory a reassuring smile, his gaze sweeping over his handsome face. “You have not disrupted me at all.” It was the truth. Lestat had been literally doing absolutely nothing, as it turned out.

Gregory went to the other side of the desk and took a seat, straightening his tie and unbuttoning the button of his suit coat. He crossed one leg over the other and smiled at Lestat more genuinely now. He steepled his hands before him and thought about what he needed to say. He would have to give Lestat this information as gently but firmly as possible. It would be a bit like when he had to give bad news to his employees.

Lestat resumed his seat, swiveling the monitor aside to offer him a better view of the revered ancient one facing him. He studied Gregory for a moment admiringly, his focus and concentration returning to him the more he made an effort to reclaim it. “Well, come out with it,” he said bluntly, but not unkindly. “There is no sense in leaving me in suspense, my friend.”

Gregory sighed a little and glanced away. “Where are your children right now, Lestat? Do you know where they are? Each of them?”

The question surprised Lestat, and he stared at Gregory, trying to think what to make of it. “No, I don’t know. Not really.” How could he? His mind was blocked to them. He could tell Gregory meant all his fledglings, more than just his literal children, Rose and Viktor, but to what end?

Lestat had _assumptions_ of where they each were, of course. All except Gabrielle and Antoine were likely in the castle somewhere. But, of course, Viktor was the only one he could pinpoint for sure, though Lestat hardly meant to violate his privacy by doing so. “Why do you ask this, Gregory?”

Gregory mentally kicked himself for opening with that question. Of course Lestat had too many to keep track of. That in itself was part of the problem here.

“Just that when you create fledglings, they tend to need strong guidance for quite some time afterwards. Even those that you might otherwise think wouldn’t.” Gregory paused again. He should just rip this bandage off. “I supposed I’m more specifically asking when did you last see David? Even Louis or Alain? Really see them and spend time with them?”

Lestat’s confusion only grew. If this were coming from just about anyone else besides Gregory, he would have been exceedingly offended, to the point of anger. But the fact that it _was_ Gregory saying these things had him concerned. Besides Rose and Alain, all of Lestat’s fledglings were so grown up that he would never dream they’d need anything from him as a maker, much less want it. But both of them were adjusting so well that Lestat had absolutely no concerns.

He shook his head, but gave the questions the thought his respect for Gregory deserved. “I was with Louis last night. David a couple nights ago… Alain is utterly immersed in a project for me and quite content. But tell me, has one of them done something foolish?” His immediate thought was that someone had made a fledgling of their own without asking permission first. His first assumption was Antoine or Alain. Lestat would forgive them, of course, but he really should know about such an event.

Gregory unsteepled his hands and leaned forward in his chair. “I’m concerned about David. I’ve been hearing rumors that he is…acting strange. And then this evening, I and several fledglings even, heard something going on in the library. I believe he’s been a little too aggressive with one of the younger vampires, and now there’s going to be some conflict in the Court if we don’t do something quickly.”

Lestat’s eyes widened. “David? _My_ David??” There had to be some misunderstanding. Lestat knew Gregory would not speak falsely to him, but someone had exaggerated these rumors. Some other explanation would surface. “Who said such things?” he asked angrily.

Gregory held a hand up to try and still Lestat’s immediate reaction. “I hear talking amongst the fledglings and house staff who witness things and hear things we don’t always have time for ourselves.” He looked Lestat in the eye to make sure he was listening. “I also heard this myself, this evening. David was with one of the younger ones, and he was fairly violent with him. I’m just going to say that. Do you believe my word? Has David been acting strange at all around you lately that you recall?”

Lestat blinked at Gregory, trying to slow his racing thoughts to truly absorb what he was saying. Trying to make this align with what Gregory said first, about Lestat’s responsibilities to his fledglings. “Yes, I believe you,” he answered honestly, despite how uncanny this all was. “But no. He has not been acting strange at all.” He knew David had been concerned for _him_ because _Lestat_ was acting withdrawn, but David should be used to Lestat’s mercurial moods. “He managed my correspondence while I was…gone. Everything was in order.”

Gregory watched Lestat closely. He loved him dearly, like he was one of his own. He hated this conversation because it was not in Gregory’s nature anymore to cause distress in others, unless they were human victims. “Where were you last week, Lestat? Where did you go and why?”

Lestat flinched, and his hand curled into a fist on the desk. He didn’t want to talk about that. He wanted to hear more about David. “Palma de Mallorca,” he answered shortly. “And I went there to hunt.” It was the truth, but only the very beginning of the truth, and he intended to leave it at that. “Where is David now?” he asked with urgency, and he began searching the papers on the desk for where his iPhone had ended up.

Gregory sighed and sat back in the chair again. Why was the Prince so secretive about where he had disappeared to?

He could see he was more concerned about David though, so Gregory let it go. “I think David may have gone into the city after it happened. I’m not sure. He was in the library with Daniel Malloy for an hour or more earlier this evening. He drank Daniel’s blood… I’m really not sure if it was consensual. I didn’t listen that closely. But I know there was some physical assaults on Daniel that were likely not at all consensual.” Gregory hesitated to mention the next part, “I saw Daniel in the halls, looking shaken and a little disoriented.”

Lestat stilled, then sank back in his chair again. “But David is not in the castle now?” He grew tenser the more he absorbed what he heard, caught somewhere between disbelief and anger. “And David did this? You are sure?” He shook his head, dismayed. “I know he…argued with Armand last week. But he wouldn’t…” Well, that was a stupid thing to say. David would do whatever he would do.

Would he brutalize Daniel as revenge for Armand? Good god… Should Lestat have done something about Armand before it came to this? He might have, but he’d been caught away from home immediately after that night, and then… “I condone no violence in this house,” he said stiffly, his lips barely moving.

“I’m sorry to be delivering this news to you.” Gregory waited for a minute while Lestat was working through all this information. “I don’t know why David would behave that way. Sometimes, the newly made vampires just develop a sudden personality change, or become particularly more aggressive than usual. And I know you don’t condone violence in the Chateau. If I was to find out something happened to Chrysanthe or any of my blood kin, I myself might become violent.” Gregory watched Lestat closely.

The horror of what Gregory was explaining seized Lestat. He didn’t consider David _newly made_. He’d been in the blood for almost thirty years now! But of course, he knew that was nothing to someone like Gregory. “No…I… Something occurred to particularly upset him. I’m sure that’s what it must be. Armand offended him, or perhaps even Daniel did as well. He lost his temper. That’s all…”

Gregory nodded. “Well, some of the fledglings were saying they heard an altercation with David and Armand about a week back. I don’t know what is going on there. I tried to ask Daniel the other day if he wanted talk about anything that was bothering him, but he deflected the topic.”

Gregory listened to the castle, trying to locate David for Lestat. “I really think David is not in the castle right now. I’m sure he will return by morning, though. He doesn’t seem the type to flee.”

“Flee…” Lestat repeated despondently as the weight of the situation sank in. “My god, David, what have you done?” He put his face in his hands, his elbows on the desk. They had rules against such violence. Explicit ones. That they had all created together! There would be consequences. There would have to be… Lestat half wished David _would_ flee, at this point.

Gregory waved a hand dismissively. “They’re fledglings, Lestat. They have these episodes of random drama all the time. I wouldn’t worry so over it. We just need to sit David down and understand his reasoning. And maybe throw him in a cell for a few years to display to the rest of the population that this won’t stand. He’ll be fine.”

Lestat jerked up, staring at Gregory in shock. A few _years??_ Such a sentence sounded even harsher than Lestat was already fearing. He was utterly speechless and still for a moment, and then immediately started looking for his phone again, flinging papers and books to the floor.

Gregory frowned. Had he said something wrong? Sometimes he said the wrong thing and then he had to learn what it was so he knew better next time. “Are you looking for something? Can I help? What did I say that upset you?”

“My phone! I have to talk to him.” Nothing turned up. Had he left it in Louis’s room again? _Their_ room. He stood, but he did not yet make to leave the office, facing Gregory. “That’s really what will happen, isn’t it? We will have to condemn David…”

Gregory stood too and went to Lestat. “I don’t know all the facts. Maybe there is a good reason for it. Maybe you could talk to Daniel or Armand about it and get their side.”

Lestat put a hand against the desk to steady himself. “And you… In your mind, this is _my_ fault. As his maker. Because I haven’t been paying attention. I have failed him.”

Gregory felt terrible for having upset the Prince this way. He placed a reassuring hand on his arm. “We will get all the facts first. Don’t listen to me. I’m too old, and I go to extremes sometimes.” He tried to make Lestat look at him. “I will help you find your phone. Is it in your rooms?”

Lestat stilled at Gregory’s touch, allowing his words to reassure him. He knew everything he said was right, but still, Lestat had a terrible feeling. “Yes, the facts,” he murmured.

Oh, but he absolutely hated the thought of this coming out publicly! Of David being humiliated by such a scandal, even if no legal consequences occurred. Lestat didn’t trust Armand to be objective, for one thing. The fact that Armand had been harassing David in the first place last week was exceedingly troubling. And god, Lestat didn’t want to get into the middle of any of it at all…

“No, my phone wouldn’t be in my rooms,” he said, thinking. “I don’t use my rooms anymore. I stay with Louis now. It might be there.” Or had he left it in his crypt? He’d awoken so late tonight. How had all this happened while he was sleeping? He turned back to his computer and fell into the chair, wiggling the mouse to wake it up to use the Find My iPhone app.

Gregory went around and watched Lestat. “Such a useful thing. What if they had that for finding fledglings?” Gregory laughed lightly.

“We ought to implant a microchip in them, like people do with their domesticated pets these days,” Lestat muttered as he ran the app, desperate to know where David had gone. It wasn’t a bad idea, actually. Certainly an easy one to consider enforcing when he had no maker himself who could use it against him. He sat back and closed his eyes to listen to see if he could hear his phone go off somewhere in the castle.

Gregory tilted his head, listening too. There was really no need to do so. There was a sudden loud tone commonly associated with cellphones in this day, and a vibrating as well. It was coming directly from the drawer in Lestat’s desk. “I think you found it,” Gregory laughed. “You really need to keep that more on your person Lestat. These things are what connect humanity, and now the undead too. Like a great webbed network, like Amel used to be the web holding all of us together.”

“I do keep it on my person when my clothes actually have pockets… Or ones that aren’t too tight.” Lestat fished the phone out of the drawer, but his heart twisted at the mention of Amel. Lestat hadn’t heard from him in so long, and he missed him terribly sometimes. He’d been trying to call Amel lately, especially right before his unexpected stay away from the castle, but without any luck. If he’d been able to speak to Amel, perhaps Lestat never would have gone.

He flicked to David’s contact in the phone and tried calling him, frowning when it went to voicemail. “You’d better not be avoiding me,” he said to the message recording. “Come home.” Then he hung up and texted David the same thing before sinking back in his chair, looking back up at Gregory a little helplessly.

Gregory gave a great sigh. This was a real mess. He hoped David had a good reason for this behavior. If it had been any other blood drinker, it might have been less of an emotional turmoil for Lestat. He leaned down and gave Lestat another warm embrace. “I’m sorry, my Prince.”

Lestat sighed, closing his eyes and sinking into Gregory, turning his face against his shoulder. “Please don’t call me that,” he mumbled. “I haven’t been anyone’s prince since they took the sacred core out of me.”

Gregory knelt, so this would not be so awkward an embrace. “You’re a prince to me. But so noted.” He petted Lestat’s hair, kissed it, and whispered, “Lestat.”

Lestat expressed his gratitude with a silent mental ripple, not bothering to speak aloud since Gregory could hear everything he thought anyway. After a long minute he pulled back with a reluctant sigh. “I supposed I had better go look for him. Check all his favorite haunts…”

Gregory nodded. “I hope you find him before Armand does.”

——————————————————————

Daniel felt sick. Whether this was a purely physical result of his…interaction…with David, he couldn’t be sure. But his head throbbed, and his stomach felt so ill that he wondered if shoving his fingers down his throat would be a viable option. Having David’s blood in his system left him electric but sluggish at the same time, and he hated it. He’d somehow made it to his bed, and collapsed atop the covers, curled up tight and holding his stomach.

Not long later, Armand swept into Daniel’s room in another one of his smothering moments, thrilled to have the opportunity to spend some time with Daniel. His conversation with Marius had lifted his spirits, but they were immediately crushed again the moment his eyes fell upon his fledgling.

“Danny? Are you quite alright?” he asked concernedly. His youthful face was sculpted into a frown, and he rushed worriedly to Daniel’s side.

Daniel, half asleep and dreamlike, was woken by the sound of his maker’s tone, and it only served to remind him of his discomfort. He curled tighter, peeking his eyes open. “Yeah….yeah, ‘Mand, I’m just…I’m tired.”

Armand shook his head, immediately angry that he had been lied to, taken for a fool. But it was swiftly overshadowed again by concern. “No, you tell me what on earth is wrong with you, and you tell me now, Daniel Molloy,” he ordered firmly, and with no room for argument.

Daniel winced against the tone; everything was too much with David’s strong blood right now, the firecrackers in his brain not soothing him at all. But the idea of trying to put those thoughts together was too hard. “…Bad blood.”

“Whose blood, Daniel?” Armand pressed, but he softened his tone. There was something about his demeanor, his shakiness, that fully roused Armand’s suspicion. None of this was right. He sat upon the bed and pulled Daniel’s head onto his lap gently. He stroked a hand along his brow with affection. “Tell me what happened, Danny.”

This was nice. This reminded Daniel of hangovers, it reminded him of that week-long flu he had in ‘81, when he taught Armand the miracle of chicken soup and 7-Up. His cool hands felt nice, his touch felt nice.

“…David,” he muttered through his exhaustion, wanting so badly to sleep. “We fought in the library…took my blood. Made me take his…spit at him, didn’t like that.”

Armand’s mind lurched with the onslaught of information. He took a moment to process it. _Rape_. David had raped Daniel. And he had committed this despicable act after Armand had specifically warned David against this.

His heart broke in two, white hot fury seeping out of the crack and spreading throughout his whole body; electric, demanding, insatiable.

With an impeccable calm, his eyes aglow with this fierce rage, Armand leaned down to press a kiss to Daniel’s temple. “Are you alright? Do you need anything?” he asked softly. Once this was confirmed, he would go to David. He would go to him and let him see precisely why Armand was feared.

Daniel was drifting. He was so damn tired and so cold despite having fed. Well, ‘fed.’ “I shouldn’t have baited him,” he said, wrapping his hand tight into Armand’s shirt. “Warned me…I’m stupid.”

“Do not speak in that way, Daniel. It is not your fault, do you understand me?” Armand pressed another sweet kiss to Daniel’s skin, this time upon his brow. “His behavior has been abysmal, and I will put the fear of god into him the second I feel you are okay.”

Daniel only nodded. Armand’s words reached him, but they didn’t stick. He just nodded again, dreamlike. Having Armand there was good. Armand was a nightmare, but it was a nightmare he knew. Armand’s blood never sat sour in his belly, Armand never beat his head against a floor. “Can I sleep a while?”

“Of course, my darling,” Armand murmured, voice filled with tenderness and affection though he was tense with rage. His eyes glowed with it. “You sleep. I will be back before you awake.”

\------------------

After receiving Lestat’s voice mail, David couldn’t stay away from the castle any longer. He would have to go back and see Lestat, who clearly was aware of what had happened. The dawn was not long off, anyway. He’d felt a bit remorseful for what he’d done to Daniel…but not really. The man had been baiting him for nights now. Even when David apologized and tried to step away from it all, Daniel threw taunting comments at him. Then David’s vampire instinct had kicked in, and it all became a hunt for him. Humans had become too easy. Daniel too was easy, but also forbidden.

Several fledglings were still mingling about when David strolled into the great hall, intending to go right to the crypts early. But he didn’t even make it halfway across the room.

Armand stormed up to him so fast, he was practically gliding. With a fire in his eyes and in his heart, he took David Talbot by the lapels and slammed him so hard against the wall that the suit of armor beside him crumpled to the floor.

“What the fuck do you think you are doing?!” Armand hissed lowly, the fury of Satan in his voice. He very rarely swore in such a manner, but he felt this was an appropriate time.

David lost his breath at the sudden impact, but then laughed at this situation. Armand, almost a foot shorter than him, an angry little doll, manhandling him this way. “I see Danny couldn’t keep this to himself. I suppose I made quite the impression on him?”

With a roar that could rival someone double his size and thrice his age, Armand threw David down to the flagstones. He straddled his lap, brought his face centimeters from David’s as he let the roaming fledglings in the great hall watch.  
  


“I warned you, David Talbot. I told you what I would do if you touched him!” Without thinking, Armand raised his hand and slashed a deep gash in David’s throat with his nails. He would let every drop of that blood spill—it thrilled him to see it.

David tried to get Armand off of him, but that blow had been unexpected and shocking. He tried to speak but couldn’t for the sudden well of blood in his mouth. It was pouring from the gash in his throat, pooling on the floor.

Finally he managed to get some sort of hold on Armand, his hands, red with his own blood, wrapped around Armand’s little throat. He squeezed as hard as he could, choking.

Armand did not care. He didn’t need to breathe, and even if he did, nothing would deter him from this goal, this goal of absolute annihilation. He smashed David’s head hard against the flagstones, delighting in the cracking of his skull.

 _I will make you regret your own birth. I will teach you how I deal with rapists. I will make you regret breathing in Daniel_ _’s direction, you piece of fucking scum!_ Armand spoke telepathically.

David snarled, the blood choking him now. Armand’s anger had apparently made him far stronger. He heard the thoughts being sent out to him very clearly. He tried to send an answer back, that it was rich, Armand trying to teach morality of the undead when he himself had cut off the head of Lestat and Louis’s child and left her to burn in daylight. Not to mention all the other unspeakable things David knew of Armand’s past.

David felt on the edge of passing out from the blood loss and what would surely be a massive concussion. He lay still and let Armand exact his vengeance, if that was what he needed.

The cries of vampire voices came to Lestat’s mind from all directions, inescapable. _David and Armand killing each other in the great hall._

Lestat made it back to the castle as fast as his powers would let him and appeared in the room as if out of thin air. The blood smell was so thick, it almost made him dizzy. But he only paused for a second to take in the scene, before he dove in to rip Armand off of David, pulling him back from behind with enough force that they slammed into the wall together, sending another suit of armor crashing to the floor.

Once Armand registered what had happened, he tried desperately to struggle out of Lestat’s grip. His quarrel was not with Lestat, and he would never dream of hurting him in this way. Not anymore. No, Armand had one goal, and it was to tear David limb from limb, and nothing would deter him from it.

Gregory also rushed for the great hall, hearing all the fledglings’ scared thoughts and the yelling from Armand and David. By time he reached the scene he saw Lestat had already ended the fight.

Gregory gestured angrily for all the gawking younger vampires to move further away from this scene. He went to David, the pool of blood soaking into his soft shoes as he knelt down to him.

For a terrified minute, Lestat didn’t know what to do. There was so much blood around David, he feared the worst, and he wanted to go to him. But when Gregory appeared to help him, Lestat focused on restraining Armand, holding him vice-like despite his struggling, though it took considerable effort. “What have you done?” he said at Armand’s ear, utterly dismayed.

“What has _he_ done, you might ask!” Armand hissed, eyes fixed upon David’s unconscious form. So quick to blame him. Everyone was always so quick to blame him, as though Armand was the root of all evil. “He raped Daniel!”

Gregory winced at Armand’s words in front of all these fledgling witnesses. Now they wouldn’t be able to keep that under wraps. He listened for David’s heartbeat and found it there still, a little slower than it should be, but still there. This was when Fareed or Seth would have been good to have around. Gregory didn’t know if he should try to make David drink the healing blood from him, or just spill his blood on the wounds in his throat and hope they closed faster. He decided to do the latter and sliced into his own wrist, letting the dark blood spill over David’s already bloody wounds. What a mess. The house staff was going to be so busy with this.

Lestat straightened, but did not release Armand, keeping his arms pinned back and his body against his. “I know what David did,” he snapped, keeping his voice low. “But we have laws for these things, Armand. We’re not in the dark ages anymore. This is not the way.”

Armand stopped struggling, realizing his chance had slipped away. Later on. Later on when David was alone, he would kill him.

“Hang your laws,” Armand cried. “Hang your way! This is my Daniel, my fledgling, my love!” The tears stung his eyes as the weight of David’s crime settled.

Gregory glanced over at Lestat, holding Armand in a vise grip. There was murder in Armand’s eyes. “Armand, calm yourself. Daniel will be fine. You know very well how common this is in our world. But this Court was created to stop this kind of eye for an eye behavior!”

David was still unconscious and Gregory could see that his head was bleeding too. He looked to Lestat. “I think I should take David down to the crypt, if that’s okay with you?”

Lestat nodded to Gregory in gratitude. Ice shot through him as he took in David’s appearance again. But he knew he could be in no better hands than Gregory’s right now. His grip on Armand tightened more painfully in his reaction to the sight.

“You are subject to those laws as well,” Lestat hissed at Armand. “And if you don’t care about that for your own sake, at least think of what will become of your fledgling, your love, if you force us to punish you for something you cannot undo.”

Armand knew it was too late for that anyway. If these laws were upheld, he would be severely punished for this. Fine, he would go down for this, for Daniel or Marius. And Daniel had Marius, he would be perfectly safe. “Just. Let me go. Fling me in the dungeon if you must, but release me.”

Gregory gathered David’s limp body up in his arms. His hair was matted and blood-soaked, but Gregory could see now the damage to his skull as well. He tried not to show any excess anger over this spectacle in front of all the watching fledglings, but he was seething. This was going to take so much damage control. He made bloody footprints with his boots as he left the hall.

Lestat’s face turned to watch Gregory go, his heart cracking at the sight of how lifeless David was in his arms, and how much blood he left behind. He shuddered in anguish and turned his face down against the top of the back of Armand’s head to hide his expression from all the other eyes in the room. “The dungeon? Is that what I have to do?” he asked Armand. “To keep you from doing anything else?”

“Yes,” Armand returned without hesitation. If they truly meant to keep him from David, this was the only solution. He was out for blood, and he knew himself well enough to understand that he still would be for long after this. “That is what you have to do.”

The cracks in Lestat’s heart shattered wider. Had it really come to this? He took a shuddering breath against Armand’s hair and then straightened.  
  
His eyes narrowed as he looked over Armand’s head at all the other vampires on the fringes of the room, letting them know he saw them and knew each of them and there was nothing they could hide from him, so they had better not do anything to invoke his anger regarding all this.

Then Lestat disappeared from the room with Armand faster than any of them could track, and he did not slow down until he’d reached the dungeons. There in the passage to the cells, he finally released Armand, though Lestat’s body stood between him and the only exit. “Why do you make me do this?” he pleaded with him.

“Because I will kill David, if you don’t. Because someday in the very distant future, I may hate myself for it. He was once dear to me. And because if I feel sorry for anything at this present moment, it is only that you were upset by my actions. That and what befell Daniel.” Armand spoke distantly, methodically, walking into one of the dungeon cells of his own accord.

Lestat trailed after him despondently. He stopped at the cell door, his hands on either side of it as he watched Armand’s every move. “Do you know why David did it?” he asked. If Armand had gleaned anything from David’s mind, Lestat wanted to know. “Was it just because of what you did to him last week? When you put the image of Louis dying in his mind?” Lestat had never known David to be one to seek revenge before, and it disturbed him greatly.

Armand shook his head. He hadn’t thought to ask. Did it matter? Did any of Daniel’s behavior warrant David’s attack and rape? How could it? “Danny said he baited David, that it was his fault. However, I don’t believe him. Not fully anyway.”

Lestat flinched. Even if it were true, David should be above taking such bait. What was wrong with him lately? “What happened between the two of you last week?” He knew what David had told him, about Armand making him see nightmare visions of Louis. But nothing about why. He’d meant to approach Armand about it, but then he’d been caught away from the chateau for three days and forgotten all about it in the turmoil.

“David threatened to teach Daniel some manners,” Armand answered. “He’d been perfectly dispicable the whole night, and when I stood my ground on the matter, he forcibly took my blood. Did he mention that part?” Armand cast his eyes over Lestat. “Ah, but I’m sure he didn’t,” he muttered.

Lestat didn’t bother answering aloud, his expression revealing his answer more than well enough. This was far worse than Lestat had feared. David had done this not just with Daniel, but Armand as well? Good god, the council would not be gentle with his punishment. Lestat could predict that right now. The thought of losing David hit him like a blow, and he sagged against the door frame. “But why?” he breathed. Surely Armand must have understood something of the underlying reasons in David’s mind.

“He is simply very angry as of late. Which you’d think might draw him to me more, but it enrages me to the point where I can think of nothing else,” Armand offered, calming down slightly from his fit but still holding the tension.  
  


Lestat didn’t think there was anything simple about it. What Gregory said earlier repeated in his mind in a terrifying loop. Was it really true that this sort of madness could seize a fledgling even three decades after his making?

  
Armand shook his head. “I gave as good as I got in the fight last week…as they say. That may have angered him more. But I did not take his blood, I swear to you.”

Lestat nodded a little, believing Armand, but still too overwhelmed to process everything. “It’s almost dawn,” he said, defeated. “I must go to him. And then…I have to tell Louis what you’ve both done…” He doubted he would have time tonight before Louis went to sleep as early as he always did. But Lestat would not put off doing it as soon as possible.

“Go then. And tell him if you feel you must,” Armand murmured, stepping back from the cell door. “Do let my loved ones see me, if they wish to. I don’t want to worry them too much.”

Of course Lestat felt he _must_. He couldn’t possibly keep something like this from Louis. Louis was the one person he could confide anything to. But besides how this affected Lestat personally, Armand and David were the two most important people to Louis in the world, and he absolutely needed to know.

He stared at Armand for another moment, as if afraid he’d never see him again, and then with an aching heart, he closed the solid iron cell door. Lowering the cross beam into place, he clamped the locks and bolts and then left, going quickly to where Gregory had taken David.

Armand slumped to the floor beside the wall. His body ached with the weight of his anger. He stared down at his hands, flexing them, watching David’s dried blood stretch and flake off of his hands. The glitter of Marius’s signet ring upon his ring finger was dulled by it.

Ah. Another thing he should have thought about but couldn’t in that moment. And for all his ignorance and selfishness and foolishness, Armand had surely jeopardized what he had so recently gained with Marius. His first true pang of guilt and regret hit then. But he had no intention of removing the ring. Not until he was told to.

\---------------------------

David turned his head and winced at the sharp pain. He knew Gregory had been with him for some time, but now he seemed to be gone again. David stared at the walls of his crypt and tried to remember why he was here and why his hair was matted and sticky and his clothes soaked in his own blood. He was very tired.

Lestat entered David’s crypt silently and knelt beside his open coffin, taking his face in his hands to turn it toward him. He could tell that Gregory’s blood had worked to heal the wounds Armand had inflicted, and sleep would do the rest to restore David’s strength…but it wasn’t his physical self Lestat was worried about. His fingers smoothed back the sticky hair from David’s forehead, the blood in it zinging against his skin and making him shudder. “I’m here,” he whispered.

David opened his eyes and his immediate urge was reach out and pull Lestat down, but then his head ached, and he winced and just lay still instead. He vaguely recalled he was angry about something and someone had fought with him. “Oh, you’re here now? Seems late,” he muttered.

Lestat flinched, but leaned closer. “I know…I’m sorry.” He pressed a soft kiss to David’s temple. “But I am.” He smoothed David’s hair again, then put his hand to his throat, feeling where Armand had severed it and how it had healed.

David opened his eyes completely. He looked around the crypt again and then at Lestat. “Did I kill someone? It seems like I might have killed someone.” He tried to remember more clearly. There was definitely a confrontation in the castle. “Remind me what happened.”

He hated to see David like this, all his sharp intelligence lost beyond the disorientation. Lestat’s gaze filled with anguish. “No, my love,” he said quietly. “Daniel is not dead. But I don’t know what happened. Not really.” Lestat would ask Daniel to show it all to him. “Armand hurt you,” he supplied. “But he can’t hurt you anymore. I’ve locked him in the dungeon. You are safe here.”

David stilled. He suddenly remembered everything as Lestat said the names. He glared for a moment and then looked away from Lestat. “Daniel. That little tease.” He looked back up at Lestat’s concerned face. “Why did you lock Armand up? Kill him!”

The sudden violence in David’s expression made Lestat recoil. He took David’s face between his hands again, as if he were afraid he’d jump up and run out of the room if he didn’t hold him there. “Why?” he asked, dismayed. “David, what have they done to you? Tell me everything, please.”

David glared up at Lestat. “I tried to let it go, Lestat. I know this isn’t my normal self. And I have this quick temper now. I tried to step away from Daniel and leave him alone several times. But he would taunt me back to him. He’s a little minx, just like his maker. Don’t trust them, Lestat. After everything Armand has done to you? Nicki? Claudia? Seduced Louis from you? And now this with me? Kill him!”

Lestat sat back on his heels, his hands slipping away from David as he stared at him, his horror at the situation multiplying. “No,” he breathed. Revenge was never a thing that had come naturally to Lestat, much less even appealed to him. “There will be no more violence. From any of us.”

David laid his head back on the slab, a headache pounding in his temples. He turned his face away, dejected. “Of course.” He rubbed at his eyes, frustrated tears threatening. “This is all so foolish. Why didn’t you listen to me when I came to you last time? I told you I have this violent streak now. I all but threw myself on your mercy. You left. Just left.” David thought now about leaving too. He could just go to Rio and be away from all this.

Lestat’s gaze fell. Gregory’s words about not paying his fledglings enough attention echoed in his mind, and he knew David was right. But Lestat resented that fact with sudden bitterness. His hands clenched over his knees, but when he looked back up at David again and saw the blood all over him, still glittering in places where it hadn’t yet fully dried into his clothes, the flare of defensiveness faded just as quickly as it had come.

Rising, he sat on the edge of the slab, looking down at David. “I did leave. I didn’t see…” Lestat had been too wrapped up in his own spiraling existential crisis to give David the attention he needed. But after pouring everything out to Louis the other night, Lestat was starting to feel more present again. He still had his periods of disassociation, still was sleeping far too much, but when the moment pulled him back in, it was getting easier to stay. “But I’m here now,” he said again. “I see now.” He put his hands on David’s chest to begin to unfasten and remove his bloody and torn clothing.

David let Lestat do these things because he was just too tired to not let him. “What will they do to me, do you suppose? Marius may have me in the dungeons for decades. I should probably find an attorney.” David laughed. “Why are you removing my clothing? I’m not exactly in the mood right now, Lestat.” He wished the sun would rise already so he could just pass out and forget all of this for the next ten hours or so. He wondered where Louis was right now. Would Louis visit him in the dungeons?

“I don’t know what they will do to you,” Lestat answered in a quiet raw voice, and it broke his heart that he didn’t know. He knew there were rules and laws and everything that he and Marius had drawn up years ago when the court began. But no one of their inner circle had ever broken them, and Lestat couldn’t keep them all straight for what was supposed to happen now.

David stared. Lestat’s eyes were crystalline and all the colors of blue. He didn’t remember them being quite like that before. It must be the blood Gregory had given him. Now that he really looked around himself, David could in fact see many more details that he hadn’t been able to before. “There are a lot of colors in this room.”

Lestat finished pulling off David’s shirt and balled it up to the cleanest part and used that to gently wipe away the blood that remained on his chest and neck and face. He could see even better now the effects of Gregory’s healing blood in David, practically shimmering under his warm brown skin and in his eyes. “When did this violent streak start? What began it?”

He tried to remember when the anger started. “I think I’m always a bit angry. I keep it all under the surface. I don’t know what started this… Perhaps when Louis was sick. I was…very upset over it.”

When he was done cleaning as much of the blood as he could, Lestat dropped the ruined shirt to the floor. His hand covered David’s shoulder, then slid down his arm to his hand. Clasping it, Lestat drew it up and wrapped it in both of his own. “We were all upset… But…that is not what you mean, is it? It was different for you,” he prompted David to explain further.

He shivered at the feel of Lestat’s hand. He stared into his eyes and tried to find the right words. “I’m rather in love with Louis, you know. I was angry, he could just be gone suddenly.” He took a breath. “I don’t know how that translates to any of the rest of the things I’ve done. I’m just telling you that is when I remember it starting. And then Daniel…well, he was just for sport. A rabbit in the woods. Easy. You’re a hunter, my maker. Don’t you just want to do that sometimes, Lestat? Just hunt the easy ones like Daniel? Mortals are too easy.”

“Never,” Lestat said, his hands pressing a little more tightly around David’s. Lestat would never grow bored with hunting mortals. There were plenty of magnificently diabolical ones out there that were more than a pleasure to ensnare. And even if not, he loved all his fellow blood drinkers too much to treat them so disrespectfully as objects for sport. Especially any of the poor “easy” ones. He leaned down over David, their hands pressing against his chest. “Only the difficult ones, like you.”

David blinked, feeling a sudden rush of adrenaline at those words. He caressed Lestat’s hand with his thumb. “You might want to be careful around me right now.”

“I’m not afraid of you, David.” Lestat refused to believe David had lost himself beyond complete control. Lestat had seen madness before, true madness. David would not slip anywhere near there. Lestat would not let him. Would not lose him.

With a sigh, Lestat turned his face down and pressed his lips to the edge of David’s hand between his own. “Louis isn’t going anywhere,” he said almost too softly to be heard.

David gave a great sigh and tried not to let this become another messy emotional scene like he’d made before Lestat disappeared on his trip. “You have moved in with him and didn’t tell me. Why?”

The question surprised Lestat, and he studied David’s features for a moment. “It didn’t occur to me to do so,” he answered honestly. Since when was David ever so interested in Lestat’s personal affairs? “Does it matter so much to you?” he asked with genuine concern.

David had to think about this question. Why should it matter to him if Lestat and Louis were sharing rooms now? He should be happy and nothing else. But there was something else. A little bit of jealousy, which he hated to admit to anyone. “No. It doesn’t matter to me at all.” He turned his head away and closed his eyes. He felt suddenly very tired. “You don’t have to stay here. I’ll be fine now.”

Lestat released David’s hand, but he didn’t move to get up yet. His gaze moved over the angles of David’s face, the delicate bones of his throat and clavicle. Lestat so rarely saw him like this, without a shirt. And he did not know what would happen to David and if it may soon be a very long time before he’d see him again.

Gently, the back of Lestat’s curled fingers brushed David’s jaw. “You want Louis for yourself,” he said with soft understanding. After all, he could hardly blame David for that, even as he felt a deep pang of jealousy of his own.

David opened his eyes again at such a gentle touch. Lestat was not normally gentle with him. Their relationship was always a competition for dominance. He held eye-contact for a long while. There was no point in hiding this anymore. He would be locked away now anyway. “Yes. Yes, I do. And for a while I did have him to myself. And then Armand came back into it, and Louis moved to Trinity Gate.” David felt his jaw tense at just saying the gremlin’s name.

Lestat could never truly resent Armand for taking Louis, neither of the times he did it. Because it had really always only been Louis’s choice. And Lestat had spent so long being so desperate to keep Louis with him against his will that, centuries later, he now understood they could never be happy that way. Louis could only be where Louis wished to be, and Lestat could only accept it for what it was. David needed to learn to do the same.

But he could see now how David wanted to cling to someone to blame. Yes, blame Armand. Always Armand. Lestat did not know how Louis and David had come to part a decade ago, but he’d always assumed it had been a mutual choice.

“Have you told Louis this?” he asked, not even knowing why he said it. What would Louis do if he knew how much David wanted him all to himself? Would he choose David over Lestat? Lestat didn’t want to know the answer. His grip on existence was already so tenuous these days. Louis’s devotion was the only thing keeping him grounded anymore.

David almost laughed. “No, Lestat. I have not told him this, because he is wholeheartedly devoted to you and only you…except when he’s suddenly not for one reason or another. I’m not going to chase him. I just accept the random acts of intimacy here and there and then let him go again.” David wondered how long this therapy was going to go on. “I’m tired. Kiss me, and let me sleep.”

This revelation would eat at Lestat…start to chip him away, hollowing him out. _What if?_ He ought to just tell Louis all of it himself and see what Louis did with the information, and then at least he would know the truth.

He looked down at David silently, his throat feeling tight. The night Louis asked him to move in with him, Lestat had feared Louis was actually going to tell him he was leaving him for David. That Lestat would lose both of them at once. But after that confession from Louis, the fear had seemed so irrational… Now it was back.

And besides all that, it _hurt_ for Lestat’s own sake. The simple fact that he would always come second to David after Louis. That Lestat would never have David’s heart that way…the way Lestat had dreamed they could belong together as kindred spirits when he first made him, which never came to pass.

He put a hand to David’s face, turning it to make him look at him, his jaw clenched against the turmoil his eyes betrayed. Leaning down, he kissed David on the mouth softly, but then after a lingering moment, Lestat bit his tongue, making the blood well up, and pushed it past David’s lips.

David had a distinct memory of the night Lestat made him. Of that first taste of his blood in the kiss he gave. He reached up immediately and pulled Lestat closer, holding him tightly and licking the blood from his tongue, a small growl coming from his own throat.

Lestat’s other hand grasped David’s bare side, his silken flesh warm against his palm. He let the blood flow into David’s mouth until the cuts healed, and then kissed him a minute more before breaking it.

When he finally withdrew, it was with reluctance. Lestat had the terrible feeling that they hovered on the edge of a vast precipice, and he must not misstep. Turning from David, unable to speak, he left the crypt without another word. On his way back upstairs, he texted one of the staff to bring a full change of clothes and leave them at David’s door.

David watched Lestat go reluctantly. He laid his head back in the coffin as Lestat left silently. There had been something in that kiss that was not quite in the others they’d shared recently. Maybe just fear for David’s fate after this night.

David didn’t really fear for himself what would happen. He only regretted that it had hurt Lestat and soon Louis too. He closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep.

\-------------------

The sun was almost up, but Lestat had enough time to stop by Daniel’s room. He only hoped he wasn’t already asleep. He knocked on the door, then let himself in, knowing the poor thing was in no state to admit him himself.

Sitting on the side of the bed, he put his fingertips under the edge of Daniel’s face, lifting it to get a better look at him. “Let me help you down to your crypt,” he offered gently.

Daniel was already feeling cold and weak from the call of sunrise; he didn’t fall asleep especially early, but despite his bloodline, he was still painfully young for a blood drinker, and had seen only indigo skies at the lightest since his making.

“You’re not Armand,” Daniel grumbled drowsily, reaching up to his face as though to adjust glasses he wasn’t even wearing. God, he was tired.

“Armand is downstairs,” Lestat said vaguely. “You can see him tomorrow, if you wish.” He would not keep Armand’s loved ones from him, willing to grant Armand that last request. But he did not know how long he’d have to keep Armand locked up against his own rage.

His eyes swept over Daniel. If he’d received any injuries, there was no obvious sign of them now, but he certainly looked generally disheveled.

Daniel nodded, nuzzling against Lestat’s touch. He liked touch, he enjoyed contact and cuddling with only minor regard as to who it was with.

“I’m good here, Stat,” he muttered. “Windows are shuttered, no light. I’m good.” It sounded way too exhausting to make the trip down to his coffin when he was just as comfortable a modern vampire in his bed sheets. He wanted to go back to sleep, hoping maybe this time he’d have more pleasant dreams than the awful nightmare he’d been having.

It made Lestat uncomfortable for anyone to sleep out of the crypts, but especially one so young as Daniel. Sometimes human workers moved about the castle during the day. Even if Daniel’s door was bolted, there was always risk of discovery. But he was also loathe to move Daniel when he seemed so depleted.

His hand moved to cover Daniel’s forehead in effort to draw his attention forward. “All right,” he agreed. “But first…can you show me what happened to you?”

“…Fuck you mean?” Daniel asked, scrubbing the back of his hand to his eyes, then rubbing his cheek as though feeling for a needed shave, though of course he’d done no such thing for forty years. “Been sleeping…You talk so much.”

Lestat lifted his hand, except for the tips of two fingers which lingered against Daniel’s brow. “Open yourself to me. I’ll find it on my own. You don’t have to do anything.” Lestat could have just dived into Daniel’s mind and rooted out the information, but he wanted permission. Daniel had already been violated enough tonight.

Lestat’s touch was odd, but Daniel enjoyed the company. What happened? He could tell it was nearing dawn, he felt how cold his own fingers were, resting over his chest, and the slowing of his heart. Half asleep and unable to fight it, he could do nothing about the nightmare coming to life again…

 _David, who Daniel had grown to trust, taunting him forward, cruel words about his maker, about his crazy maker, about his own madness. The pierce of fangs in his neck, the blood forced into his mouth, and that blinding pain of his head striking the stone floor over and over._ Daniel wanted to wake himself again, to try to reset his dreams, but the sun was nearing the horizon, and there was nothing to do about it now.

Lestat absorbed the images and feelings, growing cold himself in sympathy with Daniel as he relived the nightmare. How frightening Lestat’s beloved David appeared from Daniel’s eyes. He wanted to take Daniel by the shoulders and shake him out of the reverie for both their sakes. But he forced himself to endure it until he could feel Daniel losing consciousness to the death sleep.

Leaning over him, Lestat pressed a cool kiss to his forehead, hoping to change the course of his dreams before he fully slipped under.

Once he left the room, Lestat made sure Daniel’s door was locked and bolted, and then he moved a heavy piece of furniture in front of the door for good measure. He would have written a note and tacked it up there as well, but he didn’t have the materials handy to do so.

He made a quick call to the village, ensuring that no mortals were to enter the castle at all today, and then headed back in the direction of the crypts where every other vampire in the castle had already retired. However, as he passed by the ballroom, Lestat paused and went through it to go out on the terrace. There, he stood in the same place where he’d held Louis the other night and told him his troubled tale.

This time, alone, Lestat watched the sun rise, turning the sky pink and golden until it made his eyes start to hurt beyond bearing. And then just a few minutes more. Then he sighed and finally went downstairs to his own crypt to sleep.


	17. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daniel visits Armand in the dungeons, and Lestat stresses with Gregory and Louis over how he will punish David and Armand for their crimes.

Daniel woke from his sleep not long after sunset, shrugging off the last of his dreams and the cold stiffness of the almost-death. Immediately, he felt something amiss, and he looked around his bedroom for anything out of place. Finding nothing he hadn’t mussed himself, he shrugged, dug something clean from his closet (strange, he rarely slept in his clothes. Or his room for that matter) and went to leave his room when he found it solidly locked. Over and over, he tried the knob, and pressed his full strength against the door, but it didn’t budge.

Shit.

“Hello??” he called.

Thorne had been asked by Lestat to free Daniel, and he made his way to the door when he realized the fledgling was finally awake. “I am here, warrior,” he said fondly, moving the armoire away with ease and pulling out the key that Lestat had provided. He unlocked and opened the door.

He took in Daniel’s appearance paternally, eyes scanning from top to bottom in an almost protective way before nodding. “You will not be impressed with Armand.”

It took Daniel only a few moments to try and process what Thorne meant. Armand? What had he…why was he locked in? And he recalled faintly Lestat in his room and the nightmares-

Oh fuck no, not nightmares at all.

“…What did Armand do?”

“Would you like to see him?” Thorne asked, stepping aside to let Daniel past. It was probably better that way, hearing it all from the little demon’s mouth.

“He didn’t kill anyone did he?” Daniel asked, terrified even as he spoke, because he wasn’t sure which was worse, the waiting or the potential answer.

“No! Not quite,” Thorne murmured, looking to Daniel as he lingered in the doorway. “He…he may or may not be in the dungeons. Won’t you talk to him?”

Daniel felt nearly as shaken as he had last night, and it was difficult to not imagine the taste of David’s blood heavy and salty in his mouth, the momentary flash of pain as his skull hit the floor. “…Please.”

Thorne nodded, offering his arm for stability as he shut and locked the door behind Daniel. “He is allowed to have his loved ones visit. Assuming that means Marius and yourself. But I’ll have to open the door for you. They’re quite strong things.”

Daniel didn’t remark on the unintentional dig at his strength. Thorne had been only kind to him, and he just shrugged as he followed Thorne down to the dungeons, where he’d only ever wandered in passing before. It was cold down here, and it felt ungodly, like a relic from its age.

Thorne led Daniel to Armand’s cell wordlessly, unlocking the heavy door with the keys Lestat had provided. He ushered Daniel inside and spared a kind glance to Armand before removing himself. He knew that he could trust their little Loki not to harm Daniel. He was in this mess _because_ of his love of Daniel.

Armand looked up at Daniel and smiled, rushing to him. “Ah, Danny. You look a mess. Are you well? Take some of my blood darling, please.”

Daniel shook his head immediately, and bent to take Armand into his arms, gripping him tight, his cold body a comfort against him. “Armand please tell me everything that happened,” Daniel begged, not wanting to let go despite the awkward angle involved whenever he wanted to hold his short maker. “Thorne didn’t tell me a thing.”

Armand shook his head, surprised at the urgency in Daniel’s tone. He held him back with the same passion. “It is nothing to truly concern yourself with, my lovely, my darling Danny,” he soothed, combing his fingers through Daniel’s hair.

“I very nearly killed David, so I am right to be in here. I told you I would put the fear of god into him for this. And I will never forget how he hurt you. Though you’ll resent me even more for airing his crime against you to the room full of listening ears. For that I must…I must truly apologize.”

Daniel stiffened and became the one to break their hold on one another. Armand looked his usual eerily calm self, detached and doll-like. “…Crime? What did you tell them Armand?” he asked hesitantly. “David and I just got into a brawl, that’s it.”

Armand frowned, feeling genuine worry at Daniel’s countenance. “That he raped you, Danny… That’s why I tore him apart… That is what it was, by our very laws,” he said quietly, feeling very much the chastised child in that moment. He moved to hold him again. “I understand, that I should not have said it, that it was humiliating for you…I am very sorry. But understand what I did to David.”

Daniel set his jaw, looking around as though expecting to be overheard, for them to have someone listening in. “Armand….damn it, it wasn’t like that,” he said with an ache in his voice. “I hate when you all use that word like this. It’s not what happened! We had a fight, David and I. It had been brewing for days now!”

“Daniel, by our very laws, it is that! You can admit it. I will not judge you for it. He did it to me too! God knows it’s happened enough times to me in the mortal sense too that you don’t have to put on a front for me of all people!” Armand cried, his grief rising with every word that left Daniel’s mouth, with the notion that Daniel was angry with him. He couldn’t bear it if Daniel was angry with him for this, not when Armand was so close to losing Marius’s promise too. “Please Danny, I’m sorry!”

Guilt colored Daniel’s face as deeply as shame right then as his maker’s voice rose and his tone grew almost frantic. He took hold of him tighter, letting Armand hold him back. “No no, Armand, don’t be sorry, it’s ok,” he assured him, though the idea of Armand saying such a thing to the coven made his stomach turn. “I’m just…I mean it’s different, alright? I’d been pushing his buttons right back, I bit him right back!”

“You didn’t take his blood though, he took yours. And he spoke about you to me in such a vulgar manner, and I just never know what to do when someone threatens somebody I love like that,” he murmured, unable to calm down. He felt very much afraid and lost now, nothing of the fearsome beast from last night remaining within him. If he lost Daniel then it was all for nothing. “I just—I am not myself…”

Daniel took hold of Armand tight, kissing the top of his smooth curls. “Hey, c’mon, it’s ok, huh? This is just a misunderstanding. I’ll go to Lestat after this and tell him it was just a mistake! Like I’m gonna let you sit down here?!”

“No, Danny, no! You cannot be ok…” he murmured. He pulled away, looking into Daniel’s eyes and caressing his temples. “You are still shaken. You should not be taking care of me. And I do not mind being here, so long as I know you are safe.” He pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I will take my punishment. Please, let me care for you, my love, my child. Take my blood.”

“Armand please, when will you even be able to hunt for yourself again?” asked Daniel gently as he wound a loose curl around his finger. He tugged it gently to watch it spring back up. “You shouldn’t be giving me blood when you’re locked up down here!”

“Daniel, stop.” Armand spoke firmly, with all his authority as a maker, cupping Daniel’s neck now. “I can go without. You do not need to be strong. Let me be there for you now in a way that I wasn’t last night.”

Daniel didn’t want it. He didn’t need Armand’s blood, he was shaking from anxiety and disbelief, not from…from trauma or an actual need for blood, even if his body craved it. But Armand looked so desperate and upset and lost, he didn’t want to break his heart any further. So he took hold of Armand’s wrist, guided them both to sit down on the small bed, and sank his fangs gently into his cold skin.

Armand sighed with relief as Daniel drank from him. It thrilled him. His shoulders sagged and he leaned back against the cold wall, suddenly feeling very much more in place. “That’s it, darling, take everything you need.”

Daniel didn’t need any of it, not really, when he could go hunt for himself so well. But the very idea of that word, _hunt_ , made his stomach tense as he drank. His mind flooded with the feel of how much blood David took from him, how hard he pulled at his heart, how dizzy and ill he’d felt—

He wanted very suddenly to be sick.

“Danny!” Armand cried sharply, pulling his wrist from his fledgling’s mouth and cradling him tightly. He’d sensed that something was amiss—his tension, his body language. He lifted Daniel’s shirt and rubbed his cool hand over his back soothingly, suddenly very angry with David again. “I’m here, my lovely. I’ll never leave you again.”

Daniel pressed the back of his hand to his mouth. How lovely to be finding out what deep anxiety could do to an immortal body. It sucked. Or maybe his constitution was just as fucked up as his brain, who knew? But he didn’t want to spit back any of the blood he’d taken. He laid his head heavy on Armand’s shoulders, having to remind himself still after knowing him nearly fifty years now that Armand was far stronger than his small body made it seem.

Armand continued to rub his back. “If you do not need it, expel it,” he soothed, wanting his fledgling to be as comfortable as he physically could in this moment. “I am sorry I insisted upon it quite so much. I am sorry that I made such a scene of myself in your honor.”

Daniel leaned into the touch and wished he hadn’t said anything if it was just going to eat at Armand like this. “Stop…You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said quietly, hoping to compose himself. “I know you’re trying to protect your family, I get that…but…what are they gonna do to you? What’s Lestat said?”

“I don’t know, darling,” Armand returned softly. “They won’t kill me, that’s all you need to worry about. Anything else, I can take.”

“I’m fine,” Daniel assured him, despite the fact that he knew he probably didn’t look fine. “I’m just tired is all…”

“I never know with you, Daniel, you always look like a garbage fire.” Armand spoke fondly, and half in jest but they both knew it was partly true.  
  
“Listen. Can I speak to Lestat for you? I mean…about this whole situation.”

  
  


Armand shook his head. “What’s done is done. I understand that, though I still want to rip David Talbot’s throat out, finish the job that I started, it is wrong by the court. Lestat’s hands are tied, and I can tell you he is not happy about it.”

“For me then? And for Marius? Don’t fucking kill David… It’s not worth it, ok? We need you…I need you.”

Armand sighed quietly. “Please, let us just see what they say,” he murmured, turning his face into Daniel’s hair and holding him tighter. “Marius gave me his signet ring. I wanted to tell you. I am now his husband, for all intents and purposes.”

“Fuck! Is that how we do it then? Just give each other something pretty like we’re magpies or penguins? Show me, damn it!”

Armand laughed fondly, happy to have the subject changed as he displayed his hand to Daniel. “He took me aback with it, really, I only threw the notion out there. But I did so with hope. But I fear now that I will lose him through what I’ve done.”

“Oh come off it Armand. If he tried to back out of this, I would kick his ass myself,” said Daniel as a vow, happy to have something positive to cling to, if only for a few moments.

—————————————————

Gregory was finally done with all his evening grooming. His beard trimmed close and clean and his hair clean and short. He wore a tailored dark Italian suit and tie this evening. He needed to know Lestat’s state of mind after last night’s events, so he rapped lightly on the door of Lestat’s private apartment at the top of his tower and waited politely for a response.

Lestat had just finished getting dressed, himself. Now that he was sharing Louis’s rooms a floor below, this apartment had become little more than a glorified closet for his extensive wardrobe, but it still served that purpose well even as the rest of the chambers went neglected.

He was about to head down the interior staircase to Louis’s room to see if he’d come up from the crypts yet. He needed to tell Louis about what had happened with David, and he didn’t want to put it off in the slightest, especially after the talk they’d had the other night on the ballroom terrace. But he paused and went back to the main door when he heard the knock and sensed Gregory, just as eager to see him.

“Hello, my friend,” he said, opening the door and beckoning Gregory inside, and then Lestat embraced him. “How can I ever thank you for helping David last night?”

Gregory returned the embrace warmly then stood back to look him up and down. He always enjoyed seeing the chosen outfit of the night. “You look stylish this evening, my Pri—Lestat,” he said with a smile. He’d found Lestat thrived on compliments. “You owe me no thanks. David was badly wounded. Is he recovered?”

“Physically recovered, yes. All thanks to you.” If Gregory hadn’t even warned Lestat about what was going on with David in the first place, he might not have been paying attention to be there in time to stop Armand. He smiled at Gregory in true gratitude, though the expression didn’t reach his eyes. Gesturing to the chairs at the table in the center of the parlor, Lestat offered him a seat. The furniture had grown a little dusty from the couple weeks of not being used.

Gregory accepted a seat. “Has the staff forgotten to dust up here in your rooms?” He brushed a bit of it off his suit. “Thorne and Cyril said Armand is down in the dungeons.”

“Armand is in the third cell on the left.” Lestat sighed despondently, taking a seat as well. “If I didn’t put him there, he would have done worse.”

“Oh, did he tell you he would do worse? Did he or Daniel say what exactly happened with David?”

“He did,” Lestat answered about Armand. “He even wanted me to lock him up. But he wouldn’t tell me much of anything.”

“I didn’t get much out of David, myself. I was mostly just giving the blood to him. I’ve already had to deflect questions from several people just as I was on the way here to your rooms.”

Lestat frowned, troubled that so many people were clamoring for gossip. He would probably have to make some sort of announcement, wouldn’t he? “Damn all of this,” he said with a sigh. “Daniel didn’t say exactly, but…” Projecting the images, he shared with Gregory everything of what he’d seen and heard in Daniel’s mind. He hated how terrifying David looked in the recollections, and wouldn’t have shown them to most other people, but he had nothing to hide from Gregory.

Gregory nodded a little. David was terrifying, but that was all Daniel’s interpretation. “You do have to keep in mind that Daniel has a damaged psyche to begin with, and who knows how accurate those images are.”

Lestat thought that was rather generous of Gregory… David had behaved like a perfect beast, and they all knew it. He wondered if Gregory was saying this in preparation for a ‘spin’ on the events he meant to suggest they present the public. “What the hell am I going to do?” Lestat asked.

Gregory sat back in his seat. “Well…I don’t know. What would you do if it was anyone other than one of your own who’d inflicted that terror on Daniel?” He crooked one finger under his own chin and rubbed lightly, his arm on the chair arm, his eyes on Lestat. He liked to watch Lestat work through difficult issues like this. It felt like good teaching moments. Sometimes, he would guide Lestat along and other times, he would just let him flounder through to the final decision on his own.

Lestat shook his head, his brows knitting as his gaze fixed on a spot on the table between them. “Any time this sort of violence has happened before, the attacker meant to do so much worse and more. And so they had to be destroyed. But really David did nothing at all in the grander scheme of things. Nothing that our kind hasn’t been doing for millennia. However, it is still against our laws…” His gaze flicked up to meet Gregory’s again. “I don’t think I can separate myself from this. I can’t bear the thought of him being imprisoned, even if it’s done right here. He’s…he’s unwell, not evil.”

“It’s hard to have laws for those who murder nightly, isn’t it? What Armand did in retaliation is also what our kind has done for millennia. In fact, my entire first thousand years was taking vengeance out on other vampires.” Gregory shrugged. “Do you want me to punish them? I can do this easily. And if you truly think David is unwell, perhaps Fareed should see him.”

Gregory’s flippancy rankled Lestat, and he frowned at him, sinking in his chair slightly. _No_ was his immediate internal answer, but he refrained from saying it. “How would you do it?” he asked cautiously instead. “And I’d have Fareed see him this instant, if I knew where the hell he was.” He sighed and pressed his fingers between his eyes. “It may be many years before Fareed comes back to us.”

Gregory paused. He hadn’t expected Lestat to even consider his offer. “Santh and I could take them both down to the dungeons and torture them for a few nights. That’s the old way. I know you don’t like the old ways.”

Lestat paled at the suggestion of torture, staring at Gregory with horror in his eyes. He could only give a creaking half nod to confirm that _yes_ the old ways were to remain absolutely abolished.

Gregory paused and frowned as he thought through this. “Why don’t we just have a public hearing and let them air their grievances? It’s not just David who would be on trial. Armand would too.”

“You say that as if you think I have no love for Armand.” Lestat’s hand fell to the table. “A hearing, yes…but before what judges? Who will choose the sentence?” Marius might have been an obvious answer, but his interest was just as conflicted as Lestat’s in this case. How could either of them be part of this? But on the other hand, Lestat was terrified of letting anyone else take charge for what they might do to his loved ones.

Gregory didn’t reply. He did not want to be the judge. Not because he couldn’t do it, he knew he could, but because he abhorred taking any position of any real power in this court. He wanted to stay always on the fringes of it. An advisor only. “I don’t know. You’ll have to select an outside source. Or, skip the whole thing, send them both to the dungeons for a few years. They’ll be fine. Give them a victim every few nights. Let them have visitors. That’s a very cushiony sentence.” Gregory paused. “I’m not sure cushiony is a word, but you understand.”

Again, the flippancy, the sheer emotionlessness of Gregory’s reactions was breaking Lestat’s heart. “Perhaps to you it seems so,” he said only barely managing not to groan. “But I can’t. I can’t stand it… Isn’t this my fault? You practically said as much last night. Why can’t we let them go? Let me take their punishment instead.”

Gregory sighed and looked away from Lestat, a little frustrated at this point. He replayed everything from the last few nights in his mind. They couldn’t just let this drop out of the public eye of the Court.

“Lestat,” he said, leaning forward in his chair. “They have to be punished. They broke rules. It’s the worst leadership to let them get away with this simply because you have such a connection to them.” He sat back again, feeling terrible for causing this distress to Lestat, but the man had to have these life lessons at some point if he was going to be their ‘prince.’

Gregory felt he should let this topic drop, but he had one more suggestion. “Let Santh take them out in the woods right now. They’ll be gone a few nights. Then they will just suddenly be back…only slightly worse for wear.”

Lestat stiffened in his chair, his hands gripping the arms. “Absolutely not.” His heart was racing with the attempt to not imagine what horrors would befall them out there. He shook his head and clenched his jaw. “I’m sure Marius has it written in the laws we made….Sure that there is already a set punishment for offenses such as these. We’ll convene the council and review our constitution…”

Gregory smiled. “That’s great. So that’s decided then.” He looked around Lestat’s chambers and then back to Lestat. “Maybe you could tell me why you were in Palma de Mallorca? I don’t particularly think it’s a fertile hunting grounds.”

The ease of Gregory’s smile made Lestat shudder and his frame grew even tenser as he watched Gregory closely, tracking every slight move, every minuscule change in his expression. “Don’t you?” he murmured in a softly ironic tone. His elbow propped on the chair’s arm, he brushed a fingertip pensively against his lips. Should he repeat for Gregory the entire story he’d told Louis on the ballroom terrace the other night? “Maybe I could tell you,” he said after a moment as he tried to glean Gregory’s motivations for asking. “But why should I? Does it matter to you?”

Gregory paused, aware of Lestat’s sudden change in demeanor. Ah, he’d made a misstep somewhere. He thought back over this conversation and couldn’t find it. Other than he’d been a bit too blunt with the punishment issue. He narrowed his eyes a bit.

“I’ve angered you somewhere in this conversation… What was it? My blunt suggestions for punishments? You think I’m heartless. I come off that way sometimes, I know that.” He steepled his hands together and held Lestat’s eye-contact. “If you don’t want to talk about Palma de Mallorca, then don’t. You are the crown here, whether you want the title or not.”

Lestat shook his head just a little, though his eyes didn’t leave Gregory. Gregory hadn’t _angered_ him… He’d frightened him. It was so easy to forget how ancient Gregory was with how well he blended with modern society, how perfectly like a human he knew how to move, how dark he kept his skin… To be reminded so bluntly and when the stakes were so high—the fates of two people he loved so dearly… “Not heartless,” he tried to explain. But maybe it was something like that… “We are all so inconsequential to you, aren’t we?”

He sighed softly, almost inaudibly. If all Gregory cared about was Lestat’s position as leader, then Lestat had no heart to tell him about the story of where he’d gone and how he’d been trapped there. “I’m sorry for going,” was all he said, his voice dull, almost a monotone. “It was irresponsible of me.”

Gregory was silent. He watched Lestat as closely as he was being watched himself. “I just don’t count time the same anymore. I have no sense of continuity to it anymore. I’m fearless, Lestat. I don’t know fear. I struggle to understand it in others. When anyone hesitates due to fear or apprehension, it frustrates me. Make decisions fast, or they all start piling up on you.” He sighed heavily and looked away. “This is all very elementary for me. I’m sorry if I’m frightening you. I should go and let you get on with your night.”

Well _now_ Lestat was angry! And deeply offended, the ache of it twisting everything inside of him at once. He put his hands on the table, leaning towards Gregory. “Yes you should,” he said very quietly. “Before I make a fast decision we’ll both regret.”

Gregory glared for a moment at Lestat’s sudden mood; confused by it and just as angry. Perhaps the stress of the past night was just boiling over into this conversation. “As you wish,” he said quietly.

Gregory rose, leaned across the table and gave Lestat a very quick kiss on his temple before standing up completely and leaving.

The kiss shocked Lestat and he flinched as if afraid Gregory was going to hurt him, but then he was gone too quickly for Lestat to react otherwise.

He glared at the closed door for long minute afterwards, tears burning his eyes with his heartache. Eventually though, he wiped them away, composed himself, and went down the inner staircase to Louis’s rooms.

Louis was sitting at his desk, reading a book of Grimm’s Fairy Tales. He had a morbid curiosity about them. For the past couple days, he’d mostly kept to himself more out of circumstance than intention.

Lestat entered through the private interior door and came up behind Louis. He put a hand on his shoulder, leaning down to kiss the side of his face in greeting and then flopped down in a nearby armchair, pressing his fingers to his forehead. He didn’t even know where to begin with everything, shaken from his conversation with Gregory.

“I would ask if everything was alright,” Louis said. “But the look on your face tells me everything I need to know.” He paused, stood up, and approached the armchair. “Tell me what happened?”

“I had to lock Armand in the dungeons,” Lestat said with a heavy sigh. Then he lifted his eyes, looking past his hand to Louis with an almost pleading expression. “He tried to kill David.”

“Why would he do that?” Louis asked, though there was a lack of surprise in his voice.

Lestat shuddered, wrapping his arms around himself as if he were cold. “Revenge,” he said dismally. “Louis, the laws Marius wrote for us do not condone revenge… I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

Louis didn’t realize how much he’d missed while he’d been keeping his distance, and a wave of guilt washed over him. But he shook it off quickly enough, for this wasn’t about him. “Have you spoken to Marius of it?” he inquired as he offered Lestat his hand. “He too must be devastated.”

Lestat clasped Louis’s hand gratefully, drawing him a little closer by it and then pressing it against his temple. “No,” he admitted. “I haven’t seen him yet. This just happened last night, just before dawn. When I awoke tonight, I wanted to find you first.” He frowned a little wearily. “Armand asked to be put in the dungeons, though… I only stopped him from killing David in the nick of time. He slit his throat, it…” With a shudder, Lestat let that memory go so he could get back to the point. Seeing David bleeding out like that was too similar to the time Lestat’s own throat was slit ages ago. “Armand told me if I didn’t lock him up, he would finish the job.”

Louis listened in horror. There were laws. Sure, Armand was reckless, but he was a member of the court. He was meant to uphold the law. He was not above it. “I feel sick,” he whispered. Hearing of it was enough to twist his insides.

Lestat squeezed Louis’s hand and stood. He put his other hand on Louis’s side as if afraid he’d topple over. “David’s all right,” he assured him. “Gregory gave him blood. There will be a hearing…for both of them.”

Louis took advantage of the embrace to steady himself. “I see,” he said, unable to vocalize any other thoughts. “Thank Gregory for me if you see him.”

“Oh, believe me, I have.” Lestat frowned as he studied Louis’s expression, wishing he could know what he was thinking. He put a hand gently against the side of his face. “Louis… I think something’s wrong with David. Armand didn’t attack him for no reason. David attacked both him and Daniel first.”

“Wait…Come again?” Louis’s brow knit together. “Is it the virus? Where is Fareed?”

“Fareed’s left us. I haven’t heard from him in weeks.” Lestat tried to tamp down his bitterness at that fact. “But I don’t think it’s the virus. David doesn’t have the aversion to water like you did.” Lestat swallowed, glancing away, trying to hold it together. “Gregory thinks it’s a sort of madness that sometimes comes over fledglings… David is fine in some moments, but in others he…he is not himself at all.”

“I’ve never heard of such a thing. Isn’t there a blood test that can be run?” Louis asked with concern. “Maybe try to find Seth. If you find Seth, you’ll find Fareed.”

Lestat, on the other hand, had absolutely heard of fledglings going mad. But it usually happened at the beginning, not thirty years later. Though, to Gregory, thirty years was still the beginning, so Lestat couldn’t discount it at all. “Don’t you think we’ve tried to find him?” He shook his head. “Even Viktor can’t reach them.”

Louis raised a brow. “Do you think he’s gone…went into the fire?” he asked quietly.

“No,” Lestat answered immediately. He didn’t know how he knew, but he felt sure of that. Couldn’t possibly believe otherwise. He tried touching Louis again, his mind going over everything David had said about Louis last night. He ought to ask Louis if he wanted to see David now, before the hearing got underway, but a pain in his chest kept his tongue still.

Louis leaned into the touch, begging for comfort. “This is madness,” he whispered. “We need to get ahead of this.”

Lestat moved his arms around Louis, drawing him close. “They’re separated for now.” He didn’t know what else he could possibly do. “Gregory suggested we punish them by the ancient ways…torture.” He voice grew quieter with how shaken he still felt from that conversation. “I refused, of course.” But what if this was taken out of Lestat’s hands? How could he truly stop it?

“I think that Gregory is wise, but not in this instance,” Louis said, his eyes locked upon Lestat. “We are not monsters, we have a society.”

Lestat’s arms tightened around Louis and he turned his face down against his shoulder, just needing a moment. He had no idea what he was going to do about this. No option seemed good. He didn’t want to punish either of them, but if he didn’t, it would undermine the authority of the court and their entire system of government could crumble. It was all too public. Everyone was talking about it now.

Louis pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “We could give a light sentence of therapy or service?” he offered. “Or force a payment of reparations.”

Lestat shook his head a little without lifting his face. “If we let them off that easy, what’s to stop others out there from breaking these laws whenever they want now?”

“I am not sure what else to advise.” Louis sighed sadly. “What would Marius suggest? Roman law emphasized exile, service, and forced gladiatorship.”

Lestat looked back up at him. If he weren’t so distressed, he might have laughed. “Exile is what I’m afraid of. What would I do without either of them?” Would either of them choose to endure torture in order to stay? Lestat couldn’t bear the thought of it. He sighed again. “But imagine making gladiators out of them. Our elegant pair, David and Armand, fighting in the pits.”

Louis huffed. “If that is the only option…a balanced punishment,” he said. “Then it may be the best option.”

Lestat was still praying someone on the council would come up with a miracle solution. David and Armand would not be fighting to the death for anyone’s sporting amusement. Lestat would not lose either of them. “I will convene the council to address David’s crimes first,” he said, thinking aloud. “If you want to see Armand at all, he’s in the third cell on the right in the dungeons. We will try him after we have determined what to do with David.”

“Thank you. I will consider it. For now, I think you need a distraction,” Louis admitted. “I have not seen you this way in a century.”

Lestat _absolutely_ needed a distraction. His gaze swept Louis’s perfect face. “Haven’t you?” he murmured. He was certain he’d been rather distressed much in the past decades…not that he wanted to think about any of that now.

No, Louis’s offer of distraction was most welcoming. Especially after he'd been distant for so many nights, so many weeks, so many months, really. Tomorrow, Louis would be distant again, but tonight, Lestat gladly accepted all the distraction his beloved had to offer.


	18. Trial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daniel comes before the court council to give his account of David's crimes, and David is sentenced.

Daniel hovered outside the door to the council chamber at the top of the chateau's north tower. The letter in his hand was gaining more and more creases as he messed with the paper. Lestat had left it for him while he had another long, coma-like nap. Extra as always, Lestat couldn’t use notebook paper like anyone else, oh no, this was thick parchment-style stationary and handwriting that seemed to have more loops than letters, requesting Daniel's attendance in the council chamber.

And like fuck Daniel wanted to go inside. Like he didn’t know what they wanted. All Daniel wanted to do was be downstairs with Armand…but Armand would want him here.

Fine. He raised a reluctant fist to the door and rapped.

Coming up the tower stairs, Gregory approached Daniel at the door just as he knocked at it. “Why are you knocking?” He laughed a little and opened the door, gesturing for Daniel to enter first. Gregory was not too thrilled with the timing of this meeting, as he’d had to delay an important teleconference with his mortal assistants to make it.

Inside the council chamber, Lestat had been staring out the tower window as he heard the others approach, his eyes on the clouds moving past the moon, but he turned around when they entered. He nodded to them across the round room in greeting. “Thank you for coming. Daniel,” he said, focusing on him with a scrutinizing gaze. “How are you feeling?” He had looked so ill when Lestat last saw him, but he appeared recovered now.

“Fine,” Daniel said automatically, hoping to hide his shaking hands deep into his jean pockets. Two and a half decades with Marius had only gotten Daniel used to Marius, not to a true ancient like Gregory, and not to the dazzling personality of Lestat. It hadn’t prepared him for rooms like this, seeming to contain a more solemn grandeur than the rest of the castle. He hung back as near the door as he dared. “I had a fine hunt this evening. Everything’s fine again, really.”

Gregory took the seat he usually claimed as his own. Other members of the council had begun to arrive as well. Marius was notably not among them, even though he had been sent the summons the same as everyone else. Gregory nodded to the new arrivals and crossed one leg over the other, glancing across the table to Lestat. He’d not seen him since their encounter the previous evening, when Lestat had become oddly distant and frustrated with him.

Daniel hovered at the entrance, looking like he was walking into a den of lions. Going around the table, Lestat met him and put an encouraging hand on the side of his shoulder, meeting Daniel’s eyes in an attempt at understanding. “Please sit with us.”

He gently veered Daniel to an open chair at the table, the one Armand often took, which was noticeably empty. Then Lestat took his own seat, before which several thick binders were spread, open to various pages. “I know all of us wish we didn’t have to be here right now,” he said, his heart heavy. “But everything is not fine.” He looked to Daniel again. “What David has done to you is a crime.” His finger fell on a particular printed passage in one of the binders.

Daniel tried to sit straight, shoulders back and relaxed. _Good posture_ , Marius had taught him, _makes even the least imposing man look controlled and dignified_. Which he knew was Marius’s way of telling him how to make the most of going through eternity looking half starved. Where was Marius, anyway?

“I can save us all a lot of time and energy, Lestat,” Daniel said cautiously, trying to keep his voice steady. “It was just a childish fight, nothing more.”

Gregory watched Daniel closely. He was so young and nervous. He tried to send some calming vibes across the table to him. “We just want your side of it Daniel. We are all confused about David’s behavior.” He glanced at Lestat again.

Lestat sighed, his finger drumming softly against the thick creamy paper in the binder where the laws were printed. When Marius did not answer his call, he'd had to comb through the binders on his own to find the appropriate laws. At least Gregory was here. He shook his head to Daniel’s words. It was no good to try to diminish it now. “Will you show Gregory what you showed me?”

Daniel looked blankly at Lestat, wracking his brain at those words. “Showed you? When did I show you anything?” he wanted to know, shifting nervously in his seat. He vaguely recalled Lestat in his room at sunrise, but couldn’t remember anything else about their interaction. “…Listen, I don’t know what you think you saw, but I was having nightmares the whole time I slept.”

Gregory frowned at Daniel. “Show me this fight then, Daniel. Why was it childish? David doesn’t seem childish.”

“I don’t even know what to show you,” Daniel argued, and he crossed then uncrossed his legs, unable to keep from fidgeting with so many eyes on him. “It was just a spat, I don’t know a lot of the details. David just kept getting mouthy, so we started biting at each other like a couple feral cats. He said it himself, I baited him.”

Lestat didn’t blame Daniel for what happened, not at all. Even if he did bait David, as he said. David should be beyond baiting. However, Daniel certainly wasn’t making this any easier. Lestat clenched his teeth to try to tamp down his anger over this whole situation and remain respectful. “Why don’t you show us what left blood and hair caked into the library floor?”

Gregory watched Lestat rather than Daniel. “Lestat, vampires get violent when provoked enough. And if David thought this was just games…maybe you should consider the chance that it was. What did David tell you it was?” He glanced at Daniel then. “But I am curious, Daniel, about why you were baiting him, as you say.”

Daniel looked between the two of them, each asking different questions and prodding him in different directions, and all those other eyes in the room on him. Why wasn't Marius here? Daniel had never longed so deeply for a coffin to lie in.

“I was…I was just annoyed with him,” he stammered. “He’d been mocking Armand, calling him crazy. He might have called me crazy…no, no, I called myself that, I think…and he just kept getting further into my space than I wanted, taking my things and making me come close to get them…just stupid shit. I should have seen he was just being an ass. As for…” He trailed off, raising his hand to feel the back of his head where the fissure in his skull had long since healed fine on its own. Hair and blood on the floor…had to be what left that, when David smashed his head to it.

If this were just between Daniel and David, Lestat could have believe it was mere games, would have given that suggestion much more consideration as Gregory was so strongly hinting. But would Armand attempt to murder David over just games? Armand's reaction made this all so much more serious, and Lestat allowed these thoughts to be heard by the others.

David and Armand’s crimes were in balance with each other--the more one was minimized, the more the other was increased. If Daniel really pushed for David’s innocence in this matter, Armand became all the more culpable, and the consequence would reflect that.

Lestat’s expression flinched into a scowl as he picked up on Daniel’s memory of David smashing his head. “Well, what about it?” he said, urging Daniel to finish his last sentence, giving him a significant look.

“….I don’t remember what I did to make him so angry, I really don’t. But I remember him, ah… He grabbed hold of my hair, smashed my head to the floor. A couple times I think, but I only remember the first one. I think he tried to give me blood, but I didn’t want it…” He trailed off, still feeling the back of his head, remembering the blood that poured from there. “I just don’t know why he got so pissed or why he took my blood…I mean…I told him to take it, I think?”

Gregory sighed impatiently. _Fledglings_ , he thought to himself. “You told him to take your blood, then spit at him when he returned the favor?” He looked down toward Lestat again, who seemed to be avoiding all eye contact with Gregory so far. “Let’s get David in here and ask these questions.”

“The _why_ _’s_ don’t matter right now,” Lestat said, impatient with this whole situation. Gregory’s words about having Santh take David and Armand out into the woods kept repeating in a chilling loop in the back of his mind. “What matters is _what_ David did.” He tapped the book again. “If David broke this law, then he broke it. We’ll look at the reason why he broke it later.” Lestat didn’t believe David would lie about what he did, though. And if Daniel’s memories were smashed out of his head when it hit the floor, then perhaps they should just ask David to recount what happened. He would tell the truth.

“Do you wish to avoid seeing him?” he asked Daniel before giving the word for David to be summoned.

A hot, shamed flush came over Daniel, who suddenly wished he had not so recently hunted because of it. He held Lestat’s gaze, feeling his impatience but sensing that little if any of it was directed to him.

Daniel hated this feeling of being in the spotlight, feeling so put upon and vulnerable. He had to run his tongue down the fangs in his mouth just to remind himself that he was nothing as vulnerable as he felt, even if his hands shook. _Fucking stupid coward._ “It’s fine.”

Gregory sat back again, watching Lestat and wondering again what he’d done to irritate him so. At least David would be here to settle this. “Daniel, you’re safe here. You’re not a coward, either,” he said, trying again to calm Daniel’s nerves.

The word was given, and David was summoned to the council chamber. He was glad to get the summons. He’d been waiting for it. He entered the room a little on edge already, but when he saw Daniel there at the table already, he hesitated, eyes darting to Lestat, then each of the others around the table.

He selected a seat on the opposite side of the table from Daniel. Poor terrified Daniel. David looked away from him, so as not to have a reaction he couldn’t hide from the ancient ones here.

Lestat admired Daniel’s bravery. He would have allowed him to leave if he wanted to avoid David, but it was better to have them both here to see if their claims disagreed with each other. His eyes went to David’s the moment he appeared, and he watched him closely. Lestat wanted to reach across the table to clutch David’s hand, to draw him close and never let him go. Instead his hands curled tight where they rested on the books of law.

“Thank you for joining us, David,” Lestat said as formally as he could. “Daniel is having difficulty recalling what happened between the two of you that directly led to Armand’s attempt on your life. Will you please recount it now for us?”

Meanwhile, Daniel didn’t want anyone’s admiration. He didn’t want to be patronized. All he wanted was this to be over and the drama gone and Armand free…but he’d picked up on that too. If they found David innocent, then Armand was guilty of unwarrented attempted murder and not simply of protecting his fledgling. Daniel held his arms tight over his stomach and quietly willed himself to put trust in Lestat. He was fair, and kind, and smarter than people gave him credit for.

David smiled lightly at Lestat’s request for the story. He paused to reflect on the entire sordid affair. What was the starting point?

“Daniel can’t remember?” David tried not to be too amused by this, or show it to the others. He fixed his eyes on Daniel for a long moment, then looked away as he spoke. “Daniel entered the library, looking for some charger for his computer. I had it… I offered it to him. He was skittish. I can’t imagine why. I handed it to him and apologized for toying with him. I turned to leave, and he asked what my ‘deal’ was. He wanted to know why I was toying with him. I explained that I enjoy danger and he is dangerous because Armand and Marius are protecting him….” David paused. “I tried to walk away, again with an apology. He baited me back and said I seemed more stable when Lestat writes about me…” David scowled a little then continued. “I tried to brush some lint from his clothing, and he hit me hard enough across the face to draw blood. I believe I was angered by this. I approached him again, and I kissed him with blood in it. I admit that was wrong of me. He froze up, and I let him ago. I stepped away.” David fixed his eyes on Daniel. “You could have run, Daniel. Right there, you could have run. But what did you do? Tell them.”

Gregory frowned as he listened to David’s telling. He scanned Daniel for his reactions to it and knew the others here were doing the same.

Lestat remained absolutely still as David went on, though his eyes widened just a fraction in shock to hear the way he was speaking. What had Daniel ever done to deserve such undisguised malice from him? This cutting attitude was so counter to David’s usual polished good manners in formal situations like this, Lestat felt he barely recognized the man before them now.

So far, nothing David said gave the council reason to believe he’d broken any laws after all, but that wasn’t what concerned Lestat anymore. Lestat lifted a hand before Daniel could answer David’s question. “Don’t address him, David. You’re talking to us. Just tell us what you did. Armand did not slit your throat over kisses or squabbles.”

David glanced to Lestat, distracted by his voice. He stared into those blue-grey eyes and remembered himself suddenly. He wanted to crawl into Lestat, if it was possible, and just lay there and be away from all of this mess.

Why did Daniel have this effect on him? It was maddening.

David kept his eyes off Daniel and recounted more of the events. “Daniel tripped me, shoved me to the ground and began biting and kissing back. I pulled him off and held him down. He told me to bite him and take what I wanted. I did. I drained him. But then he taunted me further, as if that wasn’t enough. He suggested I should discipline him or become his… I believe his phrase was ‘blood mate.’“

David dared to glance at Daniel again, then back away. He wanted to just get this whole story out and done. “I offered him my blood, he spit it in my face. I was infuriated. I have this quick temper now, you know that!” David turned and glared at Daniel, unable to hide the fact that he was still very irritated about it.

He looked to Lestat, furious still, but swallowing it. “I grabbed him by the hair and slammed his head into the floor repeatedly. I suspect I may have beaten him to a pulp, but I had other plans. I dragged him to the back of the library and drained him further. I watched him suffer through it. I enjoyed it. Is that what you want to hear, my maker? I loved every minute of it.” He paused. “Eventually, I calmed. I forced my blood on him again. He was too weak to do anything but take it that time. I left him there on the floor.”

“Half of that is bullshit!” Daniel announced through grit teeth as he stood quickly, smacking his palms against the table. “He makes it sound like I was flirting or leading him on when that’s not it at all! I didn’t fucking ask him to be my partner, I was being a sarcastic fuck, and I figured he could read that! He said he wanted to treat me like a fucking deer to hunt! And he’s skipping over what a creepy asshole he was leading up to this!”

Lestat’s heart sank. David was so much worse off than Lestat had realized. Even if there was no rape here, the violent assault at the end of his story was certainty a criminal offence. What had become of him? And Daniel’s outburst alarmed Lestat even further. Lestat had trusted that David would be absolutely honest, own up to his actions. He never expected such vitriol between these two vampires, of all people.

He lifted a hand to Daniel, urging him to sit back down and then looked at Gregory, hoping he would respond to what Daniel said. “Is that right? I’m at a disadvantage, as you know.” Gregory would be able to tell from David’s mind if he were bullshitting, as Daniel accused him of. Lestat believed Daniel, but his real question was whether David believed himself and if this was simply two incompatible perspectives, or if David was trying to deliberately mislead them all.

Gregory sighed and tried to keep focused on the agreeing facts between the two accounts. He looked sadly at Lestat. “David is telling you exactly how he interpreted it. Daniel is telling you his side truthfully as well.” Gregory looked sympathetically at Lestat. Lestat had to have some plan to discipline David or correct this aggressiveness in him.

David smiled at Daniel and laughed a little under his breath at how easily goaded he was. And his eyes were rather more violet when he was angry.

Lestat had been afraid that’s what Gregory was going to say… David’s laugh crawled directly under Lestat’s skin, and he looked over at him again, appalled. “Shut up, David.” Turning from him fully, he focused entirely on Daniel. “Please answer this question. Did David take your blood by force against your will?”

Daniel had never felt more put on the spot, and he tried to dig through the fog in his brain to retrieve the memories. How was he supposed to explain how sometimes things still didn’t stick the way they were supposed to? That he wasn’t sure if these scenes were real or from his nightmares? He was better, he knew he was, but sometimes his mind went through tremors, little aftershocks, he called them.

“I…he…I didn’t want him to,” Daniel said carefully, fixing his gaze only on Lestat, “but I invited him to. I told him to just take what he wanted already. I thought he’d leave me alone if he got it. But I did show my neck for him.”

Lestat shook his head gently, trying to give Daniel a reassuring look. “It’s an ambiguous question, I know. You can only answer it as your heart dictates. But we need a yes or a no from you.”

David tilted his head, watching Lestat ask these questions. “Did I take his blood by force and against his will? What a hypocritical question coming from you of all people, my maker.”

Lestat’s entire body tensed at David’s comment, but he did not deign to look at him, much less reply. If David wanted to press charges against Lestat for past outrages, then he could damn well please himself by doing so any time he wished.

Daniel all but collapsed back into his chair, looking from Lestat to the other eyes of the council. How the hell was he supposed to even answer? “…He definitely took it forcefully from Armand. That story can’t be argued. So why isn’t Armand sitting here answering for that instead of making me try to decide whether I deserved to get my blood drained or not?” Daniel bit back, more nasty in tone than he’d wanted. “Get Armand up here to tell everyone that!”

Daniel’s words shocked Lestat in a way he didn’t think he was capable of being shocked anymore. He had been entirely ready for Daniel to say _no_ so that Lestat could turn the page in the law book away from rape to the page that dealt with other assaults, and proceed from there, but now they were right back to where they started.

Lestat nodded to Daniel in an accepting way. “Thank you,” he managed to mutter. 

Gregory decided to get up and move to the seat directly beside David, so as to be closer in the event that he decided to launch himself across the table at Daniel or some other outburst. Particularly if Lestat chose to have Armand brought up here.

Gregory’s movement alarmed Lestat, though he tried to hide it. What had he sensed from David’s mind that was blocked to Lestat? Slowly, Lestat turned to look at David, his eyes much colder now than they were before. “David Talbot, did you take Armand’s blood by force against his will?” Lestat had already heard Armand’s side of this accusation.

David glanced at Gregory’s sudden appearance beside him at the table. He couldn’t say he was surprised by it. Here he was digging his own grave. He turned back to Lestat, surprised at his full name being used. “Yes, I did. Because he grabbed me and dragged me into a locked room and violently attacked me. And need I remind you, Lestat, that he sent me very painful images of Louis? I came to you afterwards in a ruined state, or have you forgotten that?”

Lestat clenched his teeth for a moment, but forced himself to work past his emotions. God, he hated this job. “Are you saying you took Armand’s blood in self-defense?” he asked in as neutral a tone as he could manage, which wasn’t very.

David laughed a little. “Are you concerned about Armand, of all people? No, it wasn’t self-defense, because Armand is weaker than I am, and I could have done any number of things. I took his blood in vengeance. You want the truth here? I was angry at him simply for being Armand.”

David sighed heavily and dropped his head to his hands in defeat. “I’m just angry. Something is not right with me. How often do I have to repeat this?”

Gregory placed a hand on David’s arm, simply in sympathy. He looked at the faces of the others around the table. “Lestat, you need to place him somewhere separate from others, at the very least.”

Daniel wanted this over. Daniel wanted so bad to just be done with this. He hated the formality, he hated that law book on front of Lestat’s face, he hated the pity in their eyes. Poor Daniel, poor crazy Daniel, the fucking victim again, now with such an ugly word attached to his name. Most of all, though, he wanted away from David and hated himself for that.

The waves of emotion coming from Daniel hit Lestat entirely sympathetically. He wanted nothing more than to be away from here as well. And yet he couldn’t bear the thought of this all happening without him at the same time. What if he had never managed to escape his horrible adventure a couple weeks ago and was still trapped in that wretched place and all this were going on without him? How much worse would that be?

Lestat met Gregory’s eyes, looking at him silently for a very long moment as he let his words sank in. Isolation did seem what David was practically begging for, didn’t it?

Slowly, his eyes fell back to the book in front of him, and his finger traced the printed lines on the paper. “David Talbot,” he said, his voice sounding dull, defeated. “According to the laws agreed upon by this council, you are guilty of the crime of violently taking another blood drinker’s blood without consent.” The self-defense caveat to the law would do David no good here. “And in accordance with the law, consequences must follow which are to be agreed upon by the council with preferential decision going to our eldest. But there is a conditional addendum written here. Thank you Marius. So kind of you. So fucking generous. Wherever the damn hell you are. Did you put this in here for yourself? David, because you are fewer than one hundred years in the blood, there is an option allowed for you to be punished solely at your maker’s discretion instead.”

David rolled his eyes. “What trash. How ironic that _you_ are finding me guilty of violently taking another’s blood!” He shook Gregory’s hand loose from his arm. “I’m not going to attack anyone here,” he snarled at him. “Do what you want with me. Lock me in a padded cell for a few decades. Wrap me up in iron chains, perhaps.”

It was breaking Lestat’s heart that David was making this even harder than it needed to be. “Do you intend to bring charges forth against me?” he snapped, even though Lestat hadn’t broken this law since it had been written. Which was all that technically mattered. Wasn’t that the whole point of making the laws? To change things? Well, Lestat had changed, hadn’t he? But it still mattered to him what David wanted to do, whether he could actually accomplish it or not.

David glared. “Of course not! I was a bloody mortal!” David hated that this was playing out in front of all these others. He didn’t want to be angry at Lestat at all. He stared at Lestat quietly, waiting for the rage to calm again. David looked at Daniel across the table. “I’m sorry Daniel, that you were dragged into this and that I did to you what I did.”

Daniel looked up at David, face hot and heart quick. _He_ _’s sorry?_ Sorry that he scared the hell out of him, stalked him, mocked his maker’s honor, questioned his sanity (which Daniel could do fine on his own) and attacked him? What was he supposed to say, that it was fine, that they were friends again?? “When you told me you looked for me, that the Talamasca would have offered me protection, that meant something to me, David. But now, I’m sure I had the lesser of two evils.”

Lestat looked past the squabbling young ones to Gregory again, his expression beseeching, though he didn’t even know for what. “I am invoking this condition.” He stabbed at the book with his finger. According to the laws Marius had drafted, fledglings under 100 years in the blood were still considered novitiate, and it was their makers’ responsibility to train and punish them accordingly. But if Lestat were to fail to correct David’s behavior, he would be subject to consequences of his own for choosing this route. It was a risk Lestat was willing to take.

“David, you will come with me now.” He then looked to the rest of the council, pointedly excluding Daniel from the severity of his gaze. “We will follow suit with Armand at our next meeting.”

Gregory gave Lestat a small encouraging smile, aware that he must be struggling with this difficulty that his own fledgling had created. “Go ahead, take him. I’ll put the word out to the rest of the court what the final decision was.” He looked at Daniel as well. “Daniel, do you need anything from us?”

Daniel’s words had made David’s anger threaten again. “I really want to strangle you right now, you little minx,” he snarled.

Lestat gaped at him. Had David gone completely mad? Is that what this was, as Gregory had implied? Flashbacks of Nicki made Lestat almost visibly shudder as he tried to repress them.

Daniel wanted nothing more than to launch himself over the table and claw David’s eyes out, but he guessed that wouldn’t be a good look. Instead he looked to Gregory and nodded his thanks. “I think I’ll go for another hunt. But I would like to see Armand tomorrow, if possible. Please.”

Lestat managed to nod to Daniel. “Of course. It is possible. You may visit him whenever you wish. Thorne or Cyril will escort you.”

With a few words of conclusion, he dismissed the council and then turned his attention fully on David. Lestat didn’t even know how to look at him now with what David had displayed. He just knew he needed to get him out of here.

“Come with me,” Lestat ordered, then he led David back to his chambers at the top of his tower where he could deal with his fledgling privately.

Ignoring the barely-disguised looks they received as they made their way through the castle took more effort than Lestat expected. And only served to make him grow more frustrated and angry. He didn’t say a word to David until they were alone again behind closed doors.

David shook off Lestat’s hold on his arm as they entered the dusty rooms. He went to the fireplace and paced back and forth a few times, trying to reconcile everything that just happened.

Lestat merely stared at him for a long dark moment before blurting out, “Well, tell me the truth. Have you lost your damn mind?”

What David wanted was to go back out there, find Daniel and… well, he couldn’t do that now. He scowled. “Well, obviously I have!”

“So do I have to lock you up?” Lestat snapped back. “Is that it?” First Armand begging to be put into the dungeons to mitigate his momentary madness, and now this. But he couldn’t bear the thought of David languishing down there. How could this happen thirty years after his making? Daniel had gone mad immediately, but had eventually recovered. Would David return to his old self as well? How long would it take?

David sat heavily on the couch and stared at the empty fireplace, trying to clear his mind of all this venomous anger. He looked around the room. It was rather empty-feeling in here, except for Lestat looking angry. “No. You don’t have to lock me up. Just let me get my center back.” He brushed some dust from the arm of the couch. “You ought to have staff come clean this place, you know.”

“I’ve been busy,” he said stiffly in his own defense. Lestat folded his arms and leaned against the edge of the table, staring across the space at him. “I can’t trust you anymore, David. Don’t you care how much that breaks my heart?”

He looked at Lestat more closely. He did appear frazzled, and it was hard to see him that way. David still had an instinct to fix things for Lestat and make sure he was always okay. He rested his head back against the couch and sighed heavily. “Yes, I care. I care. You can trust me… well, in this moment you can trust me. What will you do with me? Lock me in this room? Put guards on me? For how long?”

“I don’t know, David!” He threw his hands down. “How long does it take to get your center back? And how long does it stay back? You’ve gone all Jekyll and Hyde on me. Don’t you know what will happen?” Lestat began to pace between the fireplace and the table, running his hands through his hair. “Now that I’ve invoked this condition? The position you’ve put me in? How that law is written. If you misbehave again, then it is _I_ who am culpable. I who will face consequences next time as an unfit maker. But damn it, I had to do it. Gregory wanted you dragged out into the woods and tortured!”

David lifted his head and sat up a bit more. This was sobering news. “I know, I know I placed you in this terrible position now.” He rubbed his temple with one elegant hand and watched Lestat again. “I don’t know how long it takes to go back to normal after going rabid dog like this. I promise I won’t do…I can’t promise. I’m sorry, I can’t control the sudden temper. You’ve seen that.”

Lestat stopped by the mantle and turned to look over at him. “I have.” He felt a wave of repulsion at the memory of how vulgarly David had behaved in the council chamber. And if that was in front of his most respected elders, Lestat could only imagine how he behaved alone. He silently glowered down at him for another long minute before going to the couch and sitting sideways to face him, taking him by the shoulders. “What causes this temper?” he asked, sounding a little desperate. “Is it thoroughly irrational? Or is there some root cause? Something I can remedy for you?”

David placed one of his own hands over Lestat’s, where it rested on his shoulder. He rubbed a thumb absently against his fingers. “It seems lately to be centered on Daniel and Armand. But that’s not to say it wouldn’t transfer to any other who decides to taunt or test me enough. You try it,” he said slyly, “Say rude things to me and see if I get angry.” He smiled at Lestat.

Lestat frowned as if a direct opposite force of David’s smile. “This isn’t a game,” he snapped. His hands tightened on his shoulders as if he’d haul David off the couch, but instead he just released him, sitting back. Besides, Lestat never had trouble making David angry even when Lestat said nothing rude at all. “Locking you up seems the most practical solution, but I fear it will only make this temper in you fester, not fade. Perhaps what you need is a more appropriate outlet… I ought to send you off on safari for a year.”

“Safari? Do vampires do those?” He laughed. “Put me down in the dungeons. Place me with Armand. I should like that.” He thought more soberly about it for a few silent minutes. “No, don’t. Don’t send me away. Don’t put me in the dungeons. Just leave me here in these rooms. Put guards on the doors if you must. I’ll come around eventually. I just need to be near you, though. I know that much. I need you.”

Lestat’s gaze softened at David’s last words. It was a sound enough suggestion… t wasn’t as if he were really using these rooms himself anymore, beyond the closets. And his wardrobe would give him a regular reason to be up here to see David. Of course, there was nothing to prevent David from flying off the balcony if he really wanted to. Even if Lestat barred it, the windows were always breakable. And bars were absolutely not the aesthetic he wanted on his chateau’s exterior.

But if David got into mischief out in the world with humans, would that really matter? It was just their kind in the castle Lestat needed to protect. This would be more the _suggestion_ of imprisonment… like telling a child they’re grounded. But if it did the trick… then fine. It wasn’t as if David were absolutely raving. Just…easily triggered.

Shifting forward on the couch again, he took David by the sides of his arms. “You have me,” he promised. “And you may have these rooms as long as you need them.”

David felt a great relief at these words. The thought of being away from Lestat was almost more than he could handle in his current state. “Thank you, my friend,” he said softly. “Will you have some of my clothing sent here? I mean, we don’t exactly wear the same size, and all your stuff is… lace and ruffles.” He smiled again at Lestat, trying to get a return smile of some sort at least.

“Not all of it,” Lestat said softly, mildly offended. He had a vast array of modern clothes as well from formal to casual. In fact, ever since he returned from his unexpected trip, he’d been wearing jeans much more often than anything else. He’d only dressed formally tonight for the council’s sake. “But yes, clothing and anything else you want.” David could be shut in here for weeks, months even. Years, perhaps. What if he got worse instead of better? What if he went as mad as Nicolas? Lestat felt on the edge of some great despair. His hands clung to David a little more tightly.

David felt Lestat’s grip. “What’s wrong? I’m not a lunatic, you know. I have a hair-trigger temper. You have a temper too… You used to. Maybe it’s just in the blood.” He laid his head back on the couch again and gazed at Lestat. “Just don’t let Daniel or Armand up here.”

“They’ve never come up here.” Lestat’s rooms were at the top of the tower, Louis’s apartment was directly below it, and there were several others that went mostly unused between that and the next areas of rooms that were actually inhabited. He released David again, but lifted one hand to brush back his hair from his forehead. “Will you be miserably bored up here? I suppose you’ll have plenty of time to finish memorizing all my passwords.”

David looked around the room again. “I’ll be fine, as long as I have a supply of books. I already memorized your passwords, and changed some of them, by the way. I’m surprised you haven’t found that out yet.” David lay still and watched Lestat, feeling his calm self almost entirely returned. “Do you hate me now? I’ve made a mess of everything.”

In truth, Lestat had been doing the absolute bare possible minimum of all his responsibilities for a few weeks now. No one had complained yet or seemed to care, but he wasn’t about to call attention to it. Ever since he’d cleared the calendar, there had been hardly anything to even do at all.

“Of course I don’t hate you, you idiot,” he said softly. “I just never expected you to be the messy one…” But had it been fair to hold David to higher standards than his other fledglings? Even if David was the greatest, most magnificent vampire he’d ever made, what difference did that truly make?

“Oh? Who did you expect to be the trouble-maker? I suppose I am the most adventuresome of the brood. You tend to select only the gentle and educated, after all. Alain? Is he going to be a trouble-maker? Create lots of disproportioned castles all over Europe?”

“He would rather die,” Lestat said, finally smiling just faintly. His fingertips lingered against David’s hair and he studied him quietly for a moment. Sometimes when Lestat looked at him like this, he could swear he almost saw David’s old face…like a shadow, a phantom image superimposed over this one. “Love you,” he said softly.

David leaned into the touch and sent a loving look back to Lestat. “I know that. I love you too. You are my best friend in this world.”

He took one of Lestat’s hands in his own and held it. “Remember how I took care of you when you went crazy after Memnoch? It will be a role reversal. I’m not even that far gone, you know.”

But Lestat didn’t know. He didn’t know anything at all.


	19. Settling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor and David get to know each other a little better during David's house arrest, and Lestat and Gregory have a heavy conversation about Lestat's malaise.

The next night, David was settling himself into Lestat’s tower apartment. His new prison for the foreseeable future. He was just hanging up the last of his clothing in a corner of one of the large walk-in closets—the only empty space left. Lestat really needed to thin out his collection. He touched the sleeve of a Ralph Lauren burgundy double-breasted jacket. If only he and Lestat were the same size, he might steal this one.

Viktor found himself lurking around his father’s tower, hoping to catch him between work duties. He seemed to be so flighty, which was fine, he was busy, but Viktor had a lot of time to kill while Rose was off catching up with her own friends. He hadn’t expected Lestat’s room to be occupied, and he startled at the sight, afraid he’d disturbed one of the help at first. “Shit, David, I’m so sorry! I wasn’t paying any attention!”

David paused, unsure how to address Viktor’s sudden appearance. He wasn’t sure he was allowed visitors, other than Lestat. “Hello, Viktor. I didn’t know you had free reign here. I’m just settling in…” David eyed the closet’s overstuffed contents again. “Well, squeezing in, I suppose.” He gave Viktor a gentle smile.

“Oh are you…you’re moving in? I really have been gone too long!” Viktor laughed at himself good-naturedly. “I just came to look for a book D…Father said I could borrow.” He looked at the clothes hanging up in the closet, obviously not Lestats.

David made a small amused sound. “Moving in. I guess that’s what it’s called,” he muttered. He looked Viktor up and down a few times. He was so Lestat-like, yet completely not Lestat. It was the oddest thing. “Yes, sorry. I’m moving in. What book are you looking for? I have probably seen it around.”

Huh. Well…good for them! Viktor had always wondered when his dad and David might get together properly! “A Clockwork Orange,” he answered lightly. “I read it before, but it’s been…well I was maybe 12, 13? And I wanted a reread. Have you seen it?”

“A Clockwork Orange… Anthony Burgess, right? What an odd dark selection, dear boy.” David went over to one of the bookcases and perused for this particular book. “I heard you were in Australia, how was that?”

“Beautiful! And warm. I loved it. Definitely want to go back. Poor Rose misses getting a nice tan on the beach,” he rambled, peering over David’s shoulder at the book case, eager to make a list of what he wanted to borrow. He’d read many of these, but they were an excuse to talk to Lestat.

David found the book Viktor wanted and handed it to him. “Rather a violent book for a 12 year old,” he said. He watched Viktor closely. “Have you been doing much since you got back? Made any friends here?” David was curious about how Viktor was handling life with such a famous father.

“Well half the court is family! So there’s that much!” he said brightly, taking the book offered without comment on its contents. “But now that I’m back, I’m hoping to be around for a while this time! Perhaps you and I should go out sometime?”

David paused. “I would like that. Though I’m not sure I’m actually allowed out on my own right now.” David thought everyone in the Court would be aware of his status now, but perhaps Viktor was very sheltered still. “Does anyone know you are here with me right now, Viktor?”

“Ah, no, I just got home from being in Paris with Rose for a couple nights! Are you grounded or something, David?” he asked, keeping a charming smile on his face while slowly growing suspicious.

David had to laugh at how much that smile was Lestat’s, and yet how innocent it still was. He crossed his arms on his chest and leaned a shoulder casually against the bookcase. “I’m a little bit in trouble, yes. I’m thinking you’re safe with me though, as you’re Lestat’s clone, and he’s the one person I’m more or less stable around. But I did think they were putting guards on the door or something.” He smiled brightly at Viktor. “If you like A Clockwork Orange, you might try The Wasp Factory. It’s about a child psychopath… I doubt Lestat has it on this shelf, though.”

“I’ll definitely want to check that out, I’m always looking for new material to read. Everyone here is so deep into the classics, Ovid and Dickens and the like, but I enjoy newer works too, darker tones. Alas, Babylon was eerie and heartbreaking, and anything by Orwell is worth a read, of course, and Bradbury…I’m sorry, I know I ramble on at length!” he apologized, giving another winning smile. Always in the company of adults since birth, it was difficult to not still feel like the young, small thing in any room.

David nodded. Either Viktor wasn’t aware he should be concerned about the potential danger he was in with David’s presence, or he was simply not afraid. “I will note your preference and recommend some other books when they come to mind. I tend to be all over the spectrum when it comes to reading.” David gestured to the chairs and the couch before the fireplace. “Would you like to have a seat to wait for Lestat? I’m not sure when he’ll be back or where he went off to. And don’t worry about rambling. Lestat rambles too. I’m accustomed to it.”

Viktor perked up at this; of course he knew his father was overly verbose. He’d read all those long monologues in his books, over and over. No one who wrote books that unnecessarily long could be any good at getting to the point of anything. “I would love to stay! Have you read anything exciting lately?”

David sat in one of the chairs and watched Viktor choose a seat as well. “It’s too bad Louis isn’t here. Books are our favorite topic. Actually, I was just re-reading some of the classics myself. The Jungle Book, Call of the Wild, that sort of thing. I’m afraid I have no current recommendations.” David crossed one leg over the other, the way he always sat, and placed one hand on the arm of the chair, focused entirely on Viktor. “Lestat says you are staying at the Court for a while. Do you and Rose plan to travel again soon?”

“Not for a while, no…I want to actually get roots put in here at home, for once. Cause it is home now…kinda weird to think about that sometimes.” Home still felt…awkward. Not so bad, really, but he wasn’t used to being around so…so many people.

David listened to the sounds of the rest of the castle, and noticed some drifting spirits that had suddenly appeared in this room, and forgot Viktor was there for a several minutes. He remembered suddenly and fixed his eyes on him again. “I’m sorry… you were talking about home.” David frowned. “I suppose this is home. Have you met anyone outside your ‘family’ circle? You are young, Viktor, you have to make connections with some of the others in your age group. There are always new fledglings popping in.”

“I thought about spending some time at the Paris headquarters house once I’ve been here a while,” he said, trying to politely peer around the room where David had been looking, knowing what had most likely caught his attention. “…Ghosts?”

David felt like he was failing to connect here for some reason. He tried to focus more. “It’s gone. The ghost. In and out.” David sighed and rubbed at his temple for a moment. “Sorry, they distract me. Many things distract me these days. Maybe you should not be here, Viktor. I have a quick temper lately. Not that you’re likely to trigger it, just that… I can’t predict it.”

Viktor listened, and nodded slowly, not quite sure what he meant. “…If my father trusts you, then I do too. Besides, we’re brothers in a way, aren’t we?”

David laughed under his breath. “Well, he doesn’t trust me really. And rightly so.” How sweet Viktor was. Would Lestat have turned out this gentle-natured if he’d had a more secure loving childhood? “Are we brothers? We share no blood. Marius made you. I suppose you do need a brother don’t you? You have more than enough fathers.”

“I have plenty of those,” he laughed. “And Lestat is my biological father, so rather by blood, and you’re his by blood too. If not you and his other fledglings, then it’s Armand and Benji and they’re…fine…”

David felt a flash of anger at the mention of Armand. That’s right… Viktor was made by Marius, Armand was his ‘brother’ in that sense. He suddenly felt a need to protect Viktor. “So, as my first brotherly advice, I recommend you stay away from Armand.”

Viktor was quiet for a moment as he mulled this over. He didn’t know Armand well personally but… “Oh? Why is that? I’ve read his book, the same as all the others. I think it’s admirable what he’s gone through and managed to recover from. And he’s Marius’s, and Marius is my maker…”

“Oh dear God,” David snarled a little then held a hand up for Viktor to stop talking along these lines. He looked up at the ceiling and rubbed his hands over his face for a moment. He took a deep breath to calm himself before the rage could build up. He rather wished Lestat might come back to the rooms now. “Armand, Daniel, not good subjects around me, my dear boy.”

“Alright, sure,” Viktor said cautiously, guarding his thoughts. David seemed…tense. Yes, tense, and he judged it apt to not pressure him much on that front. Viktor was an adult, despite being so young in the blood, and could decide for himself if Armand was truly a danger.

David did a few mental exercises to shrug off the threatening anger. He looked at Viktor and thought again how like Lestat he was, yet not like him. His hair was more yellow, his build an inch taller and still strong, but not the same musculature as Lestat had. Somehow looking at him helped the calm return, the same as it did when he was alone with Lestat. David smiled sweetly at him. “It’s fine. I have a bit of a feud with them right now. Armand tried to kill me the other night because I attacked Daniel. There was a lot of bloodshed. You missed a show.”

“So it seems,” said Viktor with a gentle laugh. “Well then, brother, speak to me of something happier! Tell me the news, the gossip, tell me of a movie you’ve seen or a new coat even!”

David slouched in his chair, ran a hand back through his hair, and tried to think of anything recent that was happy. “I changed all the passwords on Lestat’s phone. Do you think he noticed? No, not at all.” David laughed a little at that. “Have you any questions about him that I can answer? I know all the secrets he doesn’t want others to have.” David raised a brow at Viktor, offering knowledge.

Viktor took a seat right beside David and scooted it close, eager and hungry. “Tell me anything!” he begged him. “Was he really such a beautiful idiot going after James, the body thief?”

“A beautiful idiot?” David laughed at that phrase. “You look just like him, you know?” David thought back to those days, when they were both chasing the body thief, being mortal together. “Well, he was in this body then, and he was really a mess, no idea how to do anything human without complaining endlessly about it the whole while. But once he was back in his own body…yes, of course ‘beautiful’ would be an appropriate description… Is an appropriate description.” David’s eyes move over Viktor slowly and he had a half-smile on his face.

Viktor watched David’s eyes, a blush coming to his face, but he shook it off easily. David was such a friendly face to talk to. “I so wish I could have seen him during all these exciting things!” Viktor gushed wistfully. “It seems so much more exciting than sitting here at court all day! Do you think he misses it? The adventure?”

David enjoyed the spark of excitement in Viktor. “You’re quite the fan boy of your own father.” He laughed politely. “Yes, I think he misses the adventure. In fact, I think he goes off to search for it and then doesn’t tell any of us, and he gets himself in trouble. It worries me that he might be doing that.” He looked at Viktor again with another warm smile. He spoke softly, “Do you do that at all? Take off and not tell anyone where you are?”

“God no, are you kidding me?” Viktor laughed, but it was a little forced. “Being raised with who I was? I was never even allowed out…I mean, it would worry my family too much if I just took off somewhere, you know? And I have Rose now.” He twisted the wedding ring on his left hand. “So it’s the two of us.”

“Does it bother you at all that you had such a sheltered childhood? You never interacted with other children your age? I know they sent you off to Oxford for college. Did you have lovers before Rose? Men, women? Or she was simply _the one_?”

“Ah, I was too focused on graduation to be dating.” He shrugged, avoiding the more poignant question. “But Rose was just…I mean who else could I have loved but someone else who understood and wanted this life? What would it have been for me to go out and find an innocent woman to bring into this?”

“There was no requirement to bring someone into this. There are plenty already in it to choose from.” David glanced away. He wondered where Louis was suddenly. Was he even allowed to see Louis ever again after what he’d done? Or was Lestat going to keep them separate?

He focused on Viktor again, because it was less heart-wrenching. He reached over and touched his hair with a hand, because it was too much like Lestat’s hair, and he couldn’t stop himself from doing it. But then, realizing what he’d done, he withdrew and sat back. “Forgive me. It’s just that you are like a very young, innocent Lestat. It’s a little disorienting.”

Viktor laughed again, a bit nervously, and gave his hair a quick shake to dislodge the touch. It was…weird. Made him feel weird. “I’m not so innocent, David, I assure you! I’m like twenty-six.”

“Oh well, twenty-six. You must be debauched by now.” David stretched his legs out in front of him and crossed his arms on his chest. “So, is there anything else you want to know about Lestat? He loves dogs. Did you know that?”

“Of course I did. Wish I could have met Mojo… We should get a dog,” Viktor remarked eagerly, completely ignoring the looks David was giving him.

“Get him a dog. He’ll love it.” David glanced across the room where another spirit appeared and drifted around then disappeared. “Some dogs don’t like us though, so you’ll have to be sure you thoroughly vet it first.”

“Perhaps you can come with me…when you can,” Viktor suggested. “We should adopt rather than get puppies you know… Actually it would be better to get Father involved first…I hate calling him that,” he admitted with a little grimace. “It’s so…formal.”

“It is formal… Although, that’s what I called my father. But I was from a very stodgy upper class upbringing. Just call him Lestat. I’m sure he doesn’t mind.” 

Viktor didn’t want to call him by name either. Lestat was his dad, and he wanted to be respectful. Just not that respectful, it was wierd.

David sighed. “I would join you in selecting a dog, but I really don’t know when I’m allowed out of this room. I did some pretty terrible things to Daniel. The entire council distrusts me. Lestat will be at fault if I do anything else untoward.”

“But you didn’t kill anyone, right? So surely whatever you’ve done will be over soon? You always seemed like a good man to me, Mr. Talbot!”

“Oh dear boy, don’t call me Mr. Talbot. That’s my father.” He laughed. “Just call me David.” He looked more seriously at Viktor. “No, I didn’t kill anyone. I wanted to. I came close. I forcefully took Daniel’s blood and forced mine on him. I smashed his head on the floor repeatedly, among other things… Maybe you don’t want to be hanging around these rooms now?”

Viktor remained quiet as he appraised David. That…didn’t sound like him. That didn’t sound like what he knew from these books, certainly, and he had to believe that his father was honest in his writing. “Everyone living together like this now, there’s bound to be arguments…”

David wondered what thoughts were in Viktor’s head about this, really. “Seth must have been teaching you mind cloaking techniques since you could toddle. I can’t read you at all.”

Viktor gave a nod, grinning a bit proudly. “Of course! Seth more than anyone raised me into vampirism. He would scoop me up when I fell or hurt myself and tell me how someday such things would be so far behind me I would wonder why I even cried.”

David chuckled lightly. “You’re right, though. So many blood-thirsty monsters in one place, it’s a miracle this doesn’t happen more often. I think Lestat is greatly disappointed that it’s I who snapped.”

Viktor’s light hearted tone quieted somewhat as he saw the heavy weight to David’s posture. “Are you…in serious trouble?”

“I am. I’ve never really been in trouble. I’m always perfect.” He smiled slyly at Viktor. “Do you get in trouble much? I would think so, considering your DNA is Lestat’s.”

Viktor shrugged, a bit uncomfortable. “I mean all kids get into some trouble, don’t they? And just ‘cause I was raised by blood drinkers didn’t change that…I think I was a pretty good kid, though. As for now, what would I do to get in to any trouble?” And he laughed at himself, because what else could he do?

“Oh, well I can get you into some trouble, if you like. I’m getting quite good at it, apparently. Nothing law-breaking, though. I don’t want to get Lestat in hot water over it…” He eyed Viktor with a heated look.

“Why would Father get into trouble over something I did?” Viktor asked curiously. “I’m an adult. Do I need to go over that whole twenty-six years old thing again?”

David laughed. “No. I mean he would get in trouble over what _I_ might encourage you to do. Anything I do wrong now, he takes the bullet for, so to speak.” David leaned in a little. “Does this mean you are considering trouble?”

“Course not!” he said earnestly, feeling very much a child again for a frightening moment. Viktor gave a shaky smile as he composed himself again. “I mean, I don’t need to. What would I do? I’m a vampire. Anything I want, I can get without need to go running amok.”

David had a sudden pang of guilt. This was terribly wrong to encourage bad behavior in Viktor. David chastised himself silently. Why did he do these things now?

He stared at the fireplace quietly. “Is there anything else you would like to know about Lestat? Like I said, I know him better than most, maybe better even than Louis.”

“Everything,” Viktor admitted wistfully, if a bit shy. “It’s stupid, I know, but I just want every story. Yet, I can’t think of anything to ask. I just…it’s…I grew up knowing he was my father, and getting to watch him on TV and listen to his music… I use to pretend some of his books were written specifically to me, even though I knew better. I just waited my whole life to get to meet him…”

David ran a finger beneath his chin as he thought. What could he share? “Let’s see. He’s good at remembering details about everyone he meets. He’s grumpy when he’s tired. He sings in the shower, which is really, really irritating, to be honest. Sings about the shampoo, the soap, the water temperature, everything.” David smiled at Viktor again. “Do you sing much?”

“Not really. I mean, I can sing, but I don’t much. Can also sketch some, I’ve done pottery…lots of time for new hobbies growing up!” What he really wanted to do, though, was write, but he couldn’t tell David that, how pathetic did that sound?!

“What did they do when your mother took the dark blood? Just leave you alone to your own devices down in the underground labs?”

Viktor let the question mull around in his brain a moment. “No… Not exactly…I was only ten, after all. I minded myself well, but they always had a human nanny around… Usually one of Fareed’s would-be fledglings. Because what if I got hurt? Or sick? Or just…wanted my mom… I mean, ten isn’t that old…” Viktor shrugged, tousling his blonde waves and flashing a grin he hoped was something akin to his father’s. “But I turned out alright, yeah?”

David paused at the sudden flash of the Lestat-like smile. Like it was deliberately done to distract him from probing further. “It’s difficult to be separated from your source of parental security so young. I understand that feeling. My parents shipped me off to boarding school at about that age.” He gave Viktor a look of empathy and understanding.

“I’ve only read things like that in stories,” Viktor said quietly, scooting a little closer. His leg brushed against David’s, but he didn’t seem to notice. “At least I got to see my mother each night. If that was normal to you, in your social class, to the other boys around you, did you even have any clue to feel lonely or deprived from it?”

“Of course I did. I got homesick like any child would, being taken away from their home and placed in a strange environment. I missed my parents, my dog, the nanny. But all the boys did, so it was a communal homesickness. Bonding, I suppose.” He smiled at Viktor and resisted the urge to touch his hair again. “You’re getting pretty close here,” he teased. “Be careful.”

Viktor blinked, confused for a moment, before realizing what his friend meant. He scooted himself back further away than he had been before and grinned sheepishly toward David. “Sorry…I just…sometimes I get excited and forget personal space!”

David laughed at his flustered excuse, then felt bad for it. “It’s fine, but I’m quite sure I’m not supposed to have visitors at all. If he walks in and sees his only son that close to me…he may put me in the dungeons, after all.”

David suddenly had a question. “Viktor, have you seen Louis lately?”

“…Louis?” he said thoughtfully, tapping his chin. “No…I wanted to go out hunting with him and Father when I returned, but I haven’t had the pleasure of seeing him as of late. I heard he was ill…”

David sighed, a bit dejected by this. “He had the virus, but he recovered well enough… Unless he is unwell again and no one told me.” David worried.

Viktor wiggled slightly in his seat, giving an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry…I really don’t know,” he said, offering a hand on David’s knee in consolation.

David glanced at the hand. “It’s fine. He’s always a little distant and hard to track down sometimes.” David waved an elegant hand absently. He turned his attention back to Viktor. “I hear you attended Oxford. I was at Cambridge… Rivals,” he teased with a smile. “What did you study at Oxford?”

“General studies at first, then a major in history and classical literature… Maybe that’s why I feel so burnt out on classics now!” he joked to himself. He had removed his hand, yet somehow seemed to be finding himself creeping closer again.

David smiled, amused at Viktor’s body language. This poor innocent boy. How could it possibly hurt to wake him up a little? “Well, it sounds like you could broaden your horizons to some other genre,” he said softly, tilting his head in a light, playful way, holding eye contact.

Viktor gave a smile, and leaned forward to pick up his father’s copy of A Clockwork Orange. “That’s why I’m trying this one out again!” he said cheerfully. “And might watch the movie later. Perhaps you and I could see a film together sometime?”

David made a small sound of amusement. “Of course. If I’m ever let out of here.” He looked around the room absently, then back to Viktor. He leaned forward a bit. “It’s a little odd, because I’m used to looking further down to talk to Lestat. You and I are almost same height.” He touched Viktor’s hair again. “Do you get tired of being compared to him at all?”

“Not yet. I rather like it, so long as what people say is good!” he said, giving another practiced smile. “I knew I looked like him; how could I not? But I like hearing how alike we are… Makes me feel close to him. So, by all means, tell me more!”

“Well, you clearly have his ego.” David chuckled. He wound a lock of Viktor’s yellow hair around his fingers and yanked lightly. “You have the same playful excitement, although I think his has been beaten down a bit lately.” David felt he had some license now to touch a little more, seeing as Viktor was not moving back thus far. He slid a finger along the sharp line of Viktor’s jaw and tilted his chin up lightly. “And you seem to have his bravery… Or you’re just too naïve to know you should be more on guard around me.”

Viktor was quiet a moment, looking down at David’s palm, then up again to his handsome face. His touch felt intimate and close, which Viktor liked, but in a way that made him feel almost ashamed. Yet, he didn’t want to pull away if David was only teasing. Was this just how guys messed around? He’d never really had guy friends before. “You won’t hurt me.”

David smiled sweetly. “No, I won’t hurt you,” he whispered. “You look too much like him, and I’m in love with him. I can’t hurt him.” He dropped his hand and sat back again, watching Viktor closely. “So what movies do you like to watch? I don’t think I’ve seen any films recently… We do have some rooms here in the castle with giant screens for watching films or television.” David looked around Lestat’s parlor. “There’s no television in this room. Unless he has it hidden somewhere? He does that sometimes.”

Viktor really thought David should be better at minding his words, as they came across almost flirtatious. Which was sweet, but Viktor was married, and to a woman. “I’ve wanted to see The Shape of Water; he’s a favorite director of mine. Or perhaps something more tongue in cheek? I’m fond of vampire films myself! I love looking for the little moments of truth buried in them!”

How was this boy so inexperienced? Did he even know what he was doing with Rose? David shook his head a little and glanced away, thinking. “I have also heard good things about The Shape of Water. I’m a little more about action films. I’ve been meaning to see 1917. War and explosions and history, you know? Although sometimes those violent films can have a lot of bloodshed, and that tends to make one thirst. Have you found that, Viktor? That the sight of the blood, even fake Hollywood blood, brings out the need for it?”

David stared meaningfully into his eyes this time and raised a brow slightly. “If there’s any confusion…yes, I’m flirting with you.”

Viktor sat quietly, going over what David had just said, letting out what could almost be described as a nervous giggle. Flirting? Like on purpose? Well, that…that…

“Heh, that’s really sweet David,” he said, his voice the highest it had sounded since puberty. “But you…you know I’m married, right? I’ve got a wife, had one for a few years now, and I am still rather fond of her!”

But he felt rude letting the poor guy down like this, and he was such a handsome, sweet guy. “But hey, if I was into guys, you’d be very attractive!” he said, with a wink he’d seen Lestat use at the end of one of his music videos, fun and easy.

David shook his head, incredulous. “Never do that wink again, Viktor. It’s disturbing, even when Lestat does it.” He leaned forward, slid his hands back through Viktor’s soft hair, so familiar feeling, and placed a chaste kiss on his temple, then looked into his eyes again. “Okay, my boy. I’m just trying to wake you up a little. Perhaps I have.” He let him go and sat back in his chair.

Where was Lestat, David wondered.

Well if the alarm bells chiming off in Viktor’s head like the blaring of his cell phone after a nap was David’s intent, then wonderful, he’d succeeded! Viktor began to raise his hand toward his temple to feel for where David had kissed him, but thought better of such a public admission to his confusion. Instead, he nodded to agree to David’s request.

“Father is…uh…why don’t I go to look for him?” he suggested quickly, catching his ankle on the chair and nearly upending it in his rush to leave the room. “I’ll send him in, Mr. Talbot. Thank you for the book. I had a nice time…I mean…shit…”

“My name is David,” David said, as Viktor made an ungraceful rush for the door.

—————————————————

Gregory was seated at the round table in the council chamber, in his usual seat near the opposite side from where Lestat’s seat was. He was just finishing up participating in an important VTC conference among his fellow pharmaceutical CEOs. He diligently jotted down the last of the notes on the meeting before they all signed off. There was much going on in the mortal world right now that was calling all his attention to his company, but he still liked to spend a day or two at the Court, so he was available to help here as well.

Lestat entered the chamber silently. It always looked so much larger without people in it, but still full of so many significant echoes. He nodded politely to Gregory as he joined him at the table. Instead of taking his usual chair, he sat at one in a three o’clock position to Gregory’s. “I’ve decided to keep David under house arrest,” he informed him, sounding more tired than anything else about it. “In the top rooms of my tower.”

Gregory pushed his laptop aside and sat back in his chair. He fidgeted with his fountain pen for a moment as Lestat spoke, then stilled. “That sounds like as good a plan as any. For how long? And what about Armand?” He smiled lightly at Lestat, still unsure how to interpret his mood lately.

Lestat shook his head wearily. How long, indeed? “Until he learns how to control his temper,” he said vaguely. Could be days, could be decades. He didn’t want to think about it. Lestat didn’t want to _punish_ David, after all, just keep him from doing further harm. “I’m going down to the dungeons soon to let Armand out. We’ll bring him up here tomorrow night and decide what the hell to do with him.” His gaze drifted to the shelves with the law books, not looking forward to looking up what Marius had written about dealing with attempted murder.

Where the hell was Marius?

Gregory glanced over at the law books. Marius had been busy writing them several years ago. But also there were some antique books of law from mortal history on the shelf. It was curious that Marius was not here to conduct these proceedings himself.

Gregory tilted his head and made eye-contact with Lestat. “You’re doing fine, Lestat. No one questions your ability to handle this. Why are you being so morose? This is a small affair that will be forgotten in a matter of months. Whenever the next big event blows up to distract everyone.”

“Oh, well, in that case, let’s have a party.” Lestat turned back straight in his chair again and sighed. He pushed his chair to balance on its back legs to put his feet up on the edge of the table. “It must be…liberating for you, to _feel_ so little,” he said, his eyes on the corner of the ceiling across the room.

Gregory paused and went back over their recent conversations. He sighed heavily and put his pen down, crossing arms on the table in front of him and leaning toward Lestat. “I’m trying to be supportive and encouraging with all of this. When have I given the impression I’m unfeeling? I have many feelings about this. I’m just keeping them in check. Here is a feeling I’m having right now: you are very confusing for me!”

Lestat arched an eyebrow and looked aside at Gregory with a faintly disappointed but resigned expression. “Yes. Of course, I must be. All of us young ones must baffle you utterly.” He sighed and shook his head. The tone wasn’t exactly apologetic, but neither was it bitter. Just resigned. “Well, I am morose, and I can’t help it. That’s all there is to it.”

Gregory put his head in his hands for a moment and mumbled, “Gods, you are worse than my wife.” He lifted his head and focused on Lestat entirely. “Lestat, I fucking love you like there is no tomorrow. And I don’t curse, ever. But there you go, I did for you. You are like the center of my world right now. My own blood kin are distressed because I am so obsessed with you and your success with this court. I don’t know how to make this more clear to you. Take my blood, and I will show it to you. I swear to you, my Prince, I am not unfeeling. And yes, I know you don’t like to be called ‘my Prince,’ but to me you are My Prince.” He tilted his head a bit and genuinely smiled at Lestat. “Tell me what I need to do to convince you? I am sorry for what you are suffering now. I am very, very old… I lose patience. I told you that. All of us old ones struggle with it. We are trying.”

Lestat was taken aback. Bending his legs, he let his chair settle back down to the floor and turned to face Gregory more directly. He could only shake his head a little speechlessly. He didn’t need Gregory _doing_ anything to convince him.

“I’m sorry for confusing you,” he finally managed. “I don’t mean to be cryptic. I…” He paused, his brows knitting.

It was more that Lestat just didn’t have a solid grasp on his own feelings. He’d never benefited much from self-analysis. So he just acted on his impulses without considering much what drove them. But he would try to put it in words now what was upsetting him so much about the David situation, as ‘small affair’ as it was. He did want understanding from Gregory of all people, after all. Especially after he’d said all that.

“It is just that I thought…I thought I could count on David. He is my most magnificent fledgling. He was Superior General of the Talamasca. I thought that if I… If anything were to happen to me, he would be the one able to make certain everything was taken care of. Here, and well…everything.”

Gregory listened closely, because he didn’t want to lose the thread of this and fall out with Lestat again. “You feel or felt that David was the heir to your throne here? Now he has lost some of the shine because of all this? We all have some failing, especially early in our journey on the dark road. This is his. If it means anything to you, I think he will recover from this just fine. It’s not going to scar his character.”

Gregory thought more about it. “I only have two fledglings I made myself. I can’t completely help with that aspect of it, as one of mine I never saw after I made her and the other one…she just never seemed to have a struggle. That was luck.”

“Not heir, no. But…” Lestat waved his hand vaguely, unsure how to explain. Perhaps he was thinking of something like that in an interim sense, but not permanently. Unless the council decided they wanted that. But more David as just someone to tie up all of Lestat’s loose ends, so that no one would be left in a financial or bureaucratic crisis if Lestat disappeared without warning. It was why he’d given David access to all of his accounts. “I’m sure you’re right,” was all he said in the end, his voice quiet and his focus on the wall again, as if he could see through it.

Gregory reached a hand out on the table toward Lestat, because he could read that he was in turmoil over something more. “Lestat, I’m here to take care of everything if you are suddenly gone. And David is too. Why are you even thinking in the sense that you need someone to take over anything? Why are you in this state of mind at all? We are immortals.”

Now, _there_ was the question… Lestat had been in this state of mind ever since Louis came back from his trip and Lestat was convinced it was just temporary and Louis would leave again. But he couldn’t say the reason why was really about Louis leaving him. More about the underlying reason for why that was happening in the first place. Something deep inside him that was coming undone. Cracks in his soul that had been widening for a while now. But why?

He couldn’t explain it, so he only shook his head, not seeming to notice Gregory’s hand on the table. After a moment, he spoke again, still quietly. “Tell me something… If I got it into my head to go into the earth, would you track me down, dig me up, bring me back here?”

This was the last thing Gregory expected. This kind of talk. Hadn’t Lestat just gone through a hibernation stage after that whole Memnoch episode? Why again so soon?

He searched Lestat for some sign of an answer, because he knew he wouldn’t get one if he asked. “I don’t want you to go into the earth. I need you,” he replied, a small crack in his voice at the end of it. “David needs you. Louis needs you. Of course, I would find where you were and… guard you. I suppose. I don’t know that it’s smart to drag one out of hibernation like that before they are ready.”

He implored Lestat with his eyes not to think this way. “Why are you discontent? Is it the Court? Too much to be constantly under this scrutiny? I will take some of it off your plate.” Gregory didn’t know how he would handle that, considering the mortal world was exploding right now with the pandemic and his company was swallowing his life, but he would.

It pained Lestat to see Gregory so distressed and know he had caused it. He tried to focus his wandering, spiraling thoughts and keep his attention on Gregory now. He could only shake his head to what Gregory was saying. Lestat didn’t believe anyone _needed_ him, though of course he knew they loved him. They’d needed Lestat to lead when their tribe was scattered, to create the government, this unity, but now it was all done, and anyone could manage it. It had been working well for almost six years now, and could continue infinitely that way with any elected leader.

But he also didn’t know how to answer Gregory’s questions. The whys. Lestat just knew the disassociation had been growing, that feeling of utter loneliness even in the middle of a crowd. “Marius dragged me out of the earth once. The first time I did it.” He wondered if that reminder might change Gregory’s answer.

Gregory nodded. “I remember that from your books, yes. I don’t know if he was wise to do that or not. Maybe you were meant to sleep longer, and he disrupted it, and that is why you keep going down into the earth or having these episodes more than those of your age usually do.”

He tried to smile at Lestat, to lift his mood. “I won’t let you go down. How’s that? I will be on you like…whatever sticky thing humans use these days.” He chuckled a little. He stood and went the few chairs down the table to sit closer to Lestat. He placed a hand on his arm and squeezed lightly. “I love you like I made you myself, Lestat. You are entirely mine to me. Don’t let these thoughts pull you in. You have to fight them!”

Now there was something Lestat hadn’t considered. Perhaps he’d been meant to sleep for a thousand years at first, and everything he’d been doing in the meantime was the mistake. He watched Gregory as he moved closer, and lifted a hand to put it over his on his arm.

Even though he knew Gregory was trying to make things better, his words had a stifling effect. But Lestat pushed it down, resenting it deeply, wanting to take what Gregory was saying for the good he intended.

He nodded a little. He did have to fight his dark thoughts, didn’t he? Whether he wanted to or not. The choice wasn’t his own in the end… “You don’t have to babysit me,” he tried to reassure Gregory. “I don’t want to burden you with this.”

Gregory looked away, thinking deeply about all of this. He sighed heavily as he heard his phone vibrating with incoming texts and emails. He looked back to Lestat and leaned forward and kissed his forehead lingeringly. “I will dig you up if you ask that I do so. I will do anything you ask,” he whispered. He gave Lestat one more kiss and then stood and returned to his seat. “I will be here to tend everything if this ever happens.”

Lestat’s brow pinched, his eyes following Gregory. He honestly wasn’t sure if wanted the promise to be dug up so that he wouldn’t succeed at doing something so selfish as abandoning his responsibilities, to be saved from his own worst self… or if he wanted to keep researching other ways he could be buried that no one could ever find him through.

Lestat clasped his hands together, resting them on the table and staring down at them for a long minute as Gregory tended to his work. And then with a sigh, he rose. “I suppose I’d better go let Armand out of the dungeon.”


	20. Respite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daniel visits Armand in the dungeons before Lestat comes let to him out.

Daniel tried to control his shaking as Thorne led him down to the dungeons. He’d hoped feeding on two victims tonight would help calm him and focus his thoughts, but every moment of the hunt just reminded him of David’s remarks last night in the council chamber as well as the other night when they’d fought, calling him prey. Being let into Armand’s cell was a respite, though, and Daniel was eager to hold him.

“Hello, darling,” Armand said. “You look positively a wreck. Is everything alright?” he asked as cheerfully as he ever would, patting the space beside him on the cell’s small bed. He was starting to get a little bored and restless here now, and he was very glad for the company. Perhaps Lestat might let him have some other forms of entertainment down here.

Daniel sat quickly at his side and took Armand’s small frame into his arms, holding him tight. “You don’t look so good either boss. Have they let you feed? I’ve hunted. I have plenty if you need.”

Armand quirked a brow amusedly and nestled into his fledgling’s arms. “I feel perfectly fine, Daniel. You are always worrying after me. You should just stop worrying altogether.”

“Armand, my maker is being locked in a dungeon awaiting a pronouncement after nearly killing a man. Forgive me if I can’t put away these troubles too easy, you dumbass,” he muttered, but he laid kisses to his cheek to soften his words.

“Ah, I’ve been in worse places than this and come out stronger for it. I think you forget just how old I am sometimes,” Armand assured, raising a hand to Daniel’s cheek to caress it. “I am bored down here. But now you are here it’s far more bearable. Tell me, what have you been doing since I saw you yesterday?”

Daniel immediately thought back to that dreadful hearing last night, that room full of ancients and high-ranking men and women of the court, to David calling him a minx (a minx?!) and the entire fiasco…no, Armand didn’t need to hear about any of that.

“I went for a long hunt,” he said instead. “And killed a pimp. His body lives underneath a drainage pipe now, shouldn’t be found for some time.”

“Ah, there’s my killer!” Armand spoke with the utmost pride, planting a kiss on Daniel’s cheek. “You’ve developed such skill. I am only sorry I wasn’t there to teach you more.”

Yeah that…that always punched Daniel right in the gut, but he hid it easily from Armand. He wished he’d been there too, but he barely was. It seemed to Daniel in his manic, hyper aware phases of his early days as a fledgling, that Armand had turned him out more or less immediately. He had very little memory of being sent (taken?) to live with Marius, of being taught much skill in hunting, and what he did remember was from Marius. But he knew Armand, he knew what happened with Nicki. A mercy kill might have awaited him had he stayed with Armand, he knew that, and he loved him despite it, even if there was still pain.

“You’re like a dad sitting front row at his kid’s kindergarten graduation,” Daniel chided.

“I am exceedingly proud of you, my love, even if it is not my place to be. You live up to the family name,” he murmured, combing through Daniel’s hair gently, enjoying the feeling of being held far too much.

“We all kept our own names,” Daniel said, laughing at his own joke and tensing up in case Armand decided to jab an elbow into his ribs. “Have they brought you anyone to eat yet?”

Armand sighed at his quip but ignored it, nestling into his arms further. “No, not yet. Though I imagine Lestat is so damn busy with everything up there that it’s slipped his mind. Besides, I’m old. I don’t need to feed every night.”

“I know, but that doesn’t mean I won’t worry over that either.” Daniel buried his nose into Armand’s hair, carrying just a bit of a soapy scent and nothing more. He was cold in his arms, felt only more so because of how warm Daniel was from blood. “Has…has anyone been down to talk to you since last night?”

“No, only you. I suspect everyone else is very busy. I may be busy too, if I were up there. But solitude is nothing to me, Danny. I’ve suffered it many times.” He twisted to straddle Daniel’s hips to get a better view of his face. “I am happy to have just you, for now.”

“I can bring you books,” he offered quickly. “Lestat wouldn’t mind you having books, I’m sure. I can ask him? Or anything else that might keep you busy…”

Armand sighed contentedly and slid his hands to Daniel’s neck, smiling at the concern he displayed. “Perhaps.” He nodded, planting a small kiss upon his lips. “Or perhaps even just my phone. I left it upstairs.”

“I’ll ask, sure,” Daniel murmured, feeling Armand wrap himself around him on his lap. He liked having him close. He felt…safe. As much as he hated to admit it, he felt safe here with Armand. Safe from David? Maybe, but it disgusted him to feel such anxiety over a vampire younger in the blood than even _he_ was.

“Thank you, darling,” Armand whispered against Daniel’s lips, indulging in another kiss. He had always done this, sought out the physical in times of emotional hardship, and Daniel was here, and he’d shown that he cared and Armand wanted to bask in it. “But what can I do for you? You’ve had a terrible time of it.”

Daniel just held him close, feeling Armand’s skin under his, feeling the low thrum of his blood. Armand’s blood, Marius’s blood, the same he carried in himself now. How proud he was around others, to know what he was made from. He wanted to just pretend this hearing wasn’t a thing, pretend he wasn’t afraid of David, pretend the taste of his blood wasn’t addictive.

He pulled away just enough to cup Armand’s cheek in his hand, and tip his face up, taking his lips hungrily.

Armand sighed into the kiss, allowing his fledgling this intimacy and enjoying it himself before he pulled away after some time.

“I meant in general, Daniel, is there anything I can do for you? I understand I haven’t a lot of power down here. But you name it and I’ll try,” he promised mischievously, fingers travelling to the neckline of Daniel’s shirt.

Daniel shook his head, glasses falling a little down his nose. “All I want right now is to see you. I went too long without you, Armand, and having you shoved down here in this cell is terrible. I’ll bring some blankets from your bed, ok? Pillows?” He felt Armand’s hands traveling and did nothing to stop them.

“Are you a little bit addicted?” Armand purred coyly, leaning to press a kiss just under Daniel’s jaw. He didn’t mean to be so insensitive about the whole thing, but he couldn’t help himself. He wanted to hear how beautiful he was. “Pillows would be welcome, and a blanket. Perhaps we could set ourselves up a little nest down here.”

“I’ve been addicted to you since the first drop of your blood and you fucking know it,” Daniel cursed, running his cheek over the crook of Armand’s neck, the thrum of blood so near the surface, so tantalizing. “Alcohol, acid, pills, none of it could twist me like you did.”

“You mean it, Danny?” Armand asked very quietly, hopefully, pressing another kiss to the spot before gently grazing his fangs over the skin.

“Oh come on, you know it. No one else but you could have me running around the entire northern hemisphere, you beautiful dumbass,” he snorted but thought better of his harsh words. Armand could sometimes be… _delicate_. “Beautiful…I couldn’t have asked for anyone better to have made me.”

Armand smiled, a tiny smile, and pulled away from his spot to look into Daniel’s eyes, to discern if he was telling the truth or not. He was very beautiful in his own right. How his eyes had ended up that way, only God knew. But he loved them. He loved him. “I love you,” he confessed softly. “I’ll never make another.”

“Better not. I would make a terrible older brother. I’d be terribly jealous of anyone else you would make,” he warned, only partially teasing Armand.

“Oh, is that so?” Armand asked silkily, running his hand through Daniel’s hair and pushing his other just under his shirt to lightly caress his abdomen. “What would you do?”

“If you made another? You want that story? You’re entertained by the weirdest shit Boss. You make another, and I would assume you loved them.”

Armand sighed softly, broadening his strokes along Daniel’s skin before drawing patterns. He wasn’t sure what he wanted from the conversation, but he knew it wasn’t that. “I mean that I wouldn’t. I have just enough with you.”

Daniel nodded. He wasn’t totally sure he believed Armand; he could see him being taken with another in so many decades or centuries, and he would deal with that when it came. “Well I mean it that I would be terribly jealous,” he said again, knowing what Armand liked. “If you made another, he’d have to understand I came first on the pecking order.”

Armand laughed softly at this, fingers never leaving his chest as he gazed into his eyes. “That’s bold of you to say, Danny. I’m Marius’s second and as his official husband I would say that I come first on his pecking order.” In this moment, he did not want to think on his fear of how he would slide down that list pretty quickly, or likely had already.

“Well yeah, cause he loves you the most, doesn’t he?” He asked, still knowing absolutely what Armand wanted. “And like I would ever allow myself to fall from your favor? I would have my ways to keep you happy.”

“You’re doing an exceedingly good job of it now, my love, but I am unpredictable. Tell me what you would do,” he murmured, fingers slipping along Daniel’s waistband.

Daniel raised his brows at Armand, both surprised and not at all surprised by his…touch-starved behavior. Yeah, that was the nicest way to put it. “Hunt for you. Go bring you your favorite sorts of victims. Let you dress me and take me out like you used to love to do, before. Spoil you the way you did me for so long.” _Minus the raging alcoholism and potential HIV_ , he thought with spite in the back of his head, so glad Armand was deaf to him. “Take you home and keep you in bed till dawn took you. Anything to keep your attention on me.”

Armand smiled serenely at this, nodding as if Daniel were saying everything right.

“And what would you do with me, keeping me in bed for so long? How would you spoil me?” he asked sweetly, popping the button on Daniel’s jeans with a deft movement.

…Ok. Fuck it. His lover was trapped in a fucking dungeon for trying to protect his honor. Right now, Daniel would let him do just about anything if it made him happy. “Well it’s not like it does much good at all, but I know how much you like the illusion of restraint so I would definitely keep you tied down. And you wouldn’t fight so hard as to break the chains would you?”

Armand shook his head, undoing Daniel’s zipper agonizingly slowly as he dipped his head under to reach his neck again, pressing his tongue to his jugular. “Not if you’d done them right,” he said quietly, gently palming Daniel through his underwear.

Daniel gave a jolt, trying to keep himself still under Armand’s touch, though he was never too good at it. The little demon had over five hundred years’ experience on him and that was never going to change.

“I’d figure it out,” he assured him, trying to sound unruffled. Trying to pretend Thorne wasn’t six feet away. “Get you still and pretty. I could gag you to shut up your bitching but I like your noises too much. Such a pretty voice.”

Armand chuckled, tracing the line of Daniel’s cock with his fingers and allowing his movements. There was to be nothing but fun in this. “What would you like to hear from this pretty voice?”

“You begging,” he said simply, keeping his voice low, the kind of voice that rumbled through his chest. He knew Armand loved that. “You don’t get anything unless you beg for it. But it’s even better if I can get you past begging and on to just whining for me. You’re always so fucking trigger happy and ready to fuck. I always kinda wanted to just have you tied down and play with you for a night. Toy with you the way you would toy with me and string me along.”

Armand moaned very quietly at the notion, the sensation of Daniel hardening beneath his fingertips enough to set his soul alight. “I could beg you. How about I beg you now? Please kiss me, Danny. I beg it of you.”

“That all you want?” Daniel asked with a grin, because of course he would give that to him, plus more. He knotted his fingers right into Armand’s hair and wrenched his head back sharply, Armand settled on his lap. He was just a smidge shorter than eyelevel still, and he kept his face tipped up to kiss him deeply.

Armand gasped quietly, unfathomably content with the attention. There was a comfort in it, one that took him far away from the dungeons and David and his own wrongdoings. He nodded as he returned the kiss fervently. There truly was nothing else that he wanted.

Daniel lost himself in this as easily as Armand, suddenly not caring much about Thorne outside or anyone else. He still felt such a need to make up for every year he spent apart from Armand. He bit at his tongue, both to share blood for the thrill of it and to trick Armand into having at least a few swallows.

Armand caught onto this. He shook his head and pulled away out of principle, fantastic as it was. “Daniel, I said no,” he scolded, removing his hand from Daniel’s pants abruptly.

“Give me a taste of yours too, then. It’ll be equal that way, hm?” he said, blood seeping into the lines of his lips as he kissed Armand soft and chaste.

“You can take as much of mine as you want, Daniel, I’ll not have yours,” he maintained quietly. After everything Daniel had been through, he didn’t want him without blood as well. He wanted him as physically healthy as possible.

Daniel whined softly, not liking this plan, but he let the wounds on his tongue heal before going in for another kiss.

Armand allowed this with a gentle sigh, pressing his tongue past Daniel’s lips and taking him for all that he was in that kiss. He began to gently tease his lower stomach with his fingers again, enjoying the very act of teasing.

Daniel shivered, annoyed that a vampire could still feel ticklish, and let Armand devour him. He seemed so hungry, so desperate, as though suddenly he couldn’t be close enough to Daniel, and Daniel felt the same. He reached his hands up beneath Armand’s shirt to feel his cool skin and run his nails over his back.

Armand arched into Daniel’s touch, moaning lowly as he kissed him more fervently. He broke the kiss just enough to rid Daniel of his shirt, before continuing.

Meanwhile, Lestat had made his way down to the dungeons, all of Gregory’s words weighing heavily on his heart. Outside of the door to Armand’s cell, he nodded a somber greeting to Thorne. “Do you think he’s ready to come out yet?” Lestat asked.

“Emotionally, yes. Physically…I think he may be engaged,” Thorne returned quietly. He’d been trying not to listen through the whole thing, really he had, but his job was to stay there, and he’d not brought headphones or anything.

It took Lestat a moment to realize what Thorne meant. If he were in a better mood, he might have laughed. He’d wanted to talk to Armand, to make sure he really wasn’t about to charge after David again before he let him out of jail. But Lestat didn’t feel up for interrupting him and Daniel right now.

Well, David was secure in the tower, so he would probably be safe, either way… Lestat considered Thorne for a moment, trusting his opinion. “Armand doesn’t strike you as particularly murderous and vengeful anymore? Not even in the cold way it sometimes manifests within him?”

Inside the cell, Daniel vaguely heard Thorne speaking in the hall, but didn’t pay him any more attention than that. How could he with Armand’s lips against his, cold and demanding and trying to be dominant in that way only Armand could? Well, Daniel had had enough of Armand leading thirty years ago. Without much of a warning at all, he shoved Armand backwards onto the stiff mattress of the iron cell bed and climbed above him, wedging his knees between his thighs and grabbing for his flailing, fighting arms to join his wrists above his head.

Armand gasped sharply, shocked at the sudden change. “Daniel!” he shot, even as he allowed his fledgling to pin him down. He sensed Lestat beyond the door then for the first time, but voyeuristic as Armand was himself, he gave no thought to the prospect of having an audience.

Thorne looked up from Lestat as Armand gasped in there, feeling very much like an eavesdropper again as he shifted uncomfortably. He thought on Lestat’s question to distract himself. “Daniel has been keeping him warm as a mother with a newborn babe on her breast. But I can’t tell you how he’d react if he actually saw David.”

Lestat stood still for a few moments as he absorbed what Armand was exuding mentally. He felt no threat from him or violence. David would be guarded anyway, so Lestat decided to just call it. “Thank you, my friend,” he said to Thorne. Going past him to the door, he undid all the locks and took off the cross beam, leaving it to the side so that Armand could get out whenever he wanted. Then he gestured for Thorne to leave the dungeon with him and go back upstairs.

Daniel startled at the sound of the heavy locks and bars disengaging and was quick to pull away from Armand. A heat rose to his face and he felt suddenly like a middle schooler again in the ‘60s, caught in the back of the library with the “S” volume of Encyclopedia Britannica. The last thing he needed right now was Lestat’s teasing.

Armand laughed, tilting his head back to look at the door and exposing his throat to Daniel in the process. He knew well what he was doing. If Daniel wanted to play the predator then so be it. “It’s fine, Daniel.” He laughed again, hand moving to Daniel’s thigh and squeezing it. “Lestat’s gotten up to worse. It seems I’m a free man now, though.”

Daniel felt Armand’s hand on his thigh but could only give a nervous smile as his lover vied for his attention. “He’s not still hovering around out there like a creep is he?” he asked cautiously, straining to hear into the hall.

“No, Daniel,” Armand returned reproachfully, tilting his head back down to look at him upon the realization that Daniel wasn’t going to—quite literally—bite. “He’s gone, I swear it. They both are. Do you want to go too?”

Daniel stared quietly at the door another moment, but Armand’s weight so close to him, the slow sound of his heartbeat, these were powerful distractions. His own pulse still quick from the startle he’d received, he offered a sly grin back to his lover. “Why? We have plenty of privacy here for such a crowded castle.”

“Fine.” Armand laughed warmly, wrapping his legs around Daniel’s waist to pull him back down. “Let’s make the most of it then.”

Daniel let himself be held close, and he arched himself over his lover, accepting the offer of his tipped neck. To kiss, at least, though he knew Armand wanted little more than to offer his blood. Perhaps now that they weren’t locked in and guarded, Armand would let Daniel offer his own.

Nibbling his neck, he reached for Armand’s hand, grasping it with his own and feeling the cool metal of his new ring, Marius’s ring, and before he could stop himself, there was a pang in his chest. Not jealousy, he held none of that, but a moment of emptiness, wanting to be able to offer Armand that same kind of happiness, somehow, to at least distract him from the fact that even if he was free to go, there was still David to deal with.

Well. A deep bite to his throat was a good start.

Armand gasped sharply and arched into Daniel’s mouth, linking their fingers together with a small moan. “Take it, Daniel,” he said very quietly, beyond thrilled that his fledgling had taken his invitation, that he was getting the nourishment he needed.

It wasn’t the meal Daniel wanted, it was the connection, Armand’s blood was always ambrosia to him, every drop a bite of pomegranate keeping him in this underworld palace. His lover always gave him the most beautiful images in the blood. Venice in the summer, sunshine and glistening water. Out in the ocean in Miami together, nights spent never leaving their bed. All kisses and hunger and the salt of his skin mixing with the blood on Armand’s.

He kept the last mouthful on his tongue, grabbed Armand’s jaw roughly, and fed it back to him, holding him still. He nicked his own tongue to mix in his own blood, his arguments be damned. Daniel took plenty more than he gave.

Armand very nearly bit Daniel’s tongue off in protest, but the dominance in Daniel’s touch set his body alight, along with the taste of his blood, and so he allowed it. Though he made every effort not to take any more than was given to him.

Daniel figured he’d do this, that was fine. He still felt the jolt go through his maker at even such a small taste, and he savored it, just as he savored the look of blood staining his lips as he pulled away. “I love making you look debauched,” he whispered, voice heavy in the vast stone cell. “I love making The Infamous Armand look so base.”

Armand laughed gently again at this, making a show of licking the blood from his lips as he locked eyes with Daniel. “Darling, I was practically born debauched. Though I’m glad you’re the one to do it this time. Don’t let it get to your head though, or else I’ll have to put you in your place, sweetheart.”

“You were born precious and innocent and holy,” Daniel teased, but tempered it with more kisses to Armand’s throat to coax him out of punching him in the face and breaking his glasses again. He still had his pants undone, and he thrust himself slowly against Armand’s thigh, pressing his own higher between Armand’s legs should he want to return the gesture.

“And how do you feel getting to defile something so pure? Something with the face of an angel?” Armand murmured, allowing Daniel the movement and enjoying it thoroughly. He shifted so that Daniel thrust against his own hardness instead, and tilted his head back further.

“Powerful.” It was an easy, guiltless confession to make. Armand had always been the one in control of their relationship, as almost its entirety had occurred while Daniel was human. Truly these weeks at the chateau had been their first together with Daniel well and sane and a blood drinker as he’d wanted, and he savored this position of being in control for once. Unable to reach as far as he wanted with his kisses, he pulled eagerly at Armand’s shirt, tugging him to sit upright just long enough to pull the damn thing off, before laying bites to his chest.

Armand took this opportunity to cradle Daniel’s head with his hands, pressing him deeper into his skin. He wished for a moment that his wounds wouldn’t heal so soon. He wished that they could remain there for everyone to see. Only for a moment. “Why don’t you show me how powerful you can be upstairs in my comfortable bed?”

Daniel pulled back just enough to give a smile in the dim light, and then lay kisses to the sides of Armand’s parted lips. “And should I carry you from the dungeon over my shoulder like a conquered war bride?”

Armand laughed at this, returning the kisses. “If the chateau were empty and only you and I remained, you know I’d say yes. But it isn’t proper.”

“We were about to fuck right in Thorne’s earshot three minutes ago, but me carrying you to your room makes you shy?”

“Where everyone can see, yes. Hearing is another matter entirely. Hearing can be quite the blessing to others.” Armand chuckled into another kiss, full of frivolity and playfulness. Perhaps Daniel _should_ carry him. “I’ve spent centuries crafting my image as a ferocious creature, I can’t be seen draped over someone’s shoulder.” An audience during sex was one thing, when others could see his capabilities, but to be slung over a shoulder and carried displayed no sexual skill or prowess.

“My Armand, you wrote an entire memoir detailing your predilections towards masochism and group sex and being seen carried by your lover makes you squeamish?” Daniel asked, raising his eyebrows. “You’re a strange one.”

“Getting carried by my lover in public, Daniel, yes. Now by all means you may hoist me to the heavens when we get to my room. But only then.” He spoke with finality, the quirk of his brow urging Daniel to fight him on the matter.

He would, then. He had been apart from Armand for some time but he was sure he still knew his maker, and the only way to be proven wrong was to try. Besides, he enjoyed being able to lift Armand; he’d certainly never been able to as a mortal, scrawny as he was and hefty as Armand was. So over his shoulder Armand went, giving his plump ass a harsh smack as he headed for the stairs.

“Daniel!” Armand hissed reproachfully, punching his fledgling’s back with a fraction of his strength. Though he couldn’t deny some enjoyment. “Fine, to the top of the stairs then. You’ll let me down before we reach spectators.”

“I’ll carry you as far as I please, and you’ll shut up and like it, my Armand, or all you’ll accomplish is embarrassing yourself more,” he said, traipsing up the stairs without any effort, gripping his thigh. “I mean you’re already shirtless.”

Armand toyed with the idea of setting Daniel’s legs on fire, before folding his arms and closing his eyes as they reached the ground floor of the chateau. “I’ll have you for this later,” he muttered.

“Right, well, I’ll be having you first, Armand. Doggy style I think, face down into the mattress? Sounds like a night to me.”

“Daniel!” Armand snapped. He smacked Daniel hard in the back in retaliation.

Daniel just laughed to himself, too happy for the moment, too light, too glad to have Armand safe and at least semi free for now.

He took Armand up to his room, where Daniel spent more than a fair amount of time anyway, and deposited him unceremoniously into the middle of his plush bed. The gold and cream bedding, gaudy and luxurious as anything Armand owned, swallowed up this slip of a vampire, where he lay in a heap on his back. Pale skin, reddish hair in a tangled halo around him, dark eyes wild and lustful. This was everything Daniel wanted.

“You look positively besotted, Daniel,” Armand purred from his spot on the bed, eyes raking over his lover headily before he eased himself up and went in search for a shirt. “And absolutely thrilled with yourself.”

Daniel grabbed Armand by his wrist as soon as his toes touched the floor and wrenched him back down to the mattress in a quick, fluid movement. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked with raised brows, keeping Armand bent over as he held his wrist down, taken by those wide brown eyes. “Your place for the next hour is this bed.”

“If you think you can last an hour,” Armand shot, taken aback by the belittling he’d just received. Daniel had really gotten himself in a certain way over the last hour or so.

“Fuck kind of half assed-lover do you think I am?” he demanded, grabbing for Armand’s other wrist and using them both to drag him further back towards the head of the bed. Knowing Armand could fight him off easily if he wanted, he shoved him roughly against the mound of pillows, gold silk against true white skin, and climbed over him, kneeling over his hips and thighs to still him as he bit into his throat again.  
  


Armand’s fine brows knitted together in a mixture of desire and confusion, allowing Daniel to take what he needed but not fully submitting to it. “What has gotten into you lately? Why are you like this now when never before? Is this your immortality, your new found strength?” he asked curiously, barely registering the sting of being drunk from again.

“You offered, didn’t you? Begging me to feed,” he said, lips ghosting Armand’s skin after he pressed his bloody tongue to the wounds to help them close. He kissed Armand’s throat, down his sternum, to lay them warm and wet and open mouthed over his stomach and the jut of his hips. “Love you, that’s all,” he whispered, giving a tiny bite, just a scratch with one fang.

Armand carded his fingers through Daniel’s hair and shivered at the sheer passion in those kisses, before shaking his head. There was more to it than that. “You mean to say you didn’t love me before?” he asked quietly, arching into Daniel’s lips. “There is a change in you.”

“Always loved you.” Daniel didn’t want to hear it. Armand in the dungeons, Amadeo in a cell, Andrei dug into a hole in the wall to starve for God, all the same hideous image, all the same nightmare Daniel wanted no part of, could only blame himself for. But it was fine now, it would be over soon. And here was his Maker, beautiful and free and safe and he wouldn’t do anything again to give Armand reason to act like that. “Always, always loved you.”

The tenderness of this set Armand’s heart alight and melted it. He wound his fingers further into Daniel’s hair, caressing his golden locks and watching the light bounce off of them. For the first time in a long time, he felt the impact of somebody being in love with him. He felt as though Daniel meant it, and he felt suddenly very guilty for his toxicity in their former life. “There’s not more to it even than that?” he asked again, unable to drop it.

Daniel’s answer was physical rather than verbal, as he undid the front of Armand’s jeans and yanked them down to his knees, eager to have him, eager to kiss. He was no warmer here than anywhere else but he seemed to be to Daniel, trailing his lips down his abdomen, biting at the tops of his thighs and kissing the small wounds immediately after. He liked, suddenly, feeling Armand yield to him, liked the pleased sounds he made, the gentle, affirming touch to his hair. Suddenly such tenderness and submission was all he wanted.

Armand sighed at Daniel’s ignorance, but having his body worshipped like this was hardly a curse. He brought his legs up to frame his fledgling. “I am glad to have you here,” he praised. In more ways than one. Now he had Daniel in front of him, safe, away from David or any other bastard who wanted to find out where Armand had gotten his reputation.

Daniel showed his affection back by scraping his nails up the inside of Armand’s thighs, spread open around him, hard enough to leave red welts for all of six seconds before they faded entirely. “So pretty like this,” he whispered, still ignoring where he knew Armand most wanted to be touched. “Beautiful, you devilish little—”

He was about to call him some taunting name, a slut, a whore, some other word that became ok once they were in bed together, but suddenly the idea seemed far too cruel.

Armand was a slut. Always a slut, for being told how beautiful he was. It lit a spark in his chest every time—of what? Pride? Who knew. But he melted for it. “Little what?” he asked quietly, wide eyes fixed on Daniel, his greatest decision, his greatest treasure, as if he were looking at the brightest jewel.

Daniel didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to call him a whore or a slag or a minx—

He winced, glad his face was dipped down and hidden so Armand couldn’t see. Well, if he couldn’t cover his tracks, he thought, he could distract Armand. He flattened his tongue and drew it up Armand’s attentive cock, root to end, knowing that would take his mind off things entirely.

Armand shivered, using all his learned skill not to buck up into Daniel’s mouth. He’d not forgotten though, and something about this whole experience seemed fundamentally…off to him. Trusting his gut, he lifted Daniel’s face to meet his gaze and looked into his eyes again. “Daniel please, tell me what’s on your mind,” he pried yet again.

“Only wanting to make you feel good, babe,” he responded, keeping his voice low as Armand liked. Not breaking his gaze, Daniel eased two fingers into his own mouth, coating them thoroughly, then used them to rub the head of Armand’s cock, determined to be the one controlling this situation and this conversation.

For the first time that night, Armand’s mind was taken away from such worries. his eyes fluttered closed, and he allowed the delectable burn of Daniel’s actions spread from his cock to the rest of his body for just a moment. “Why?” he asked quietly, employing a new tactic, unable to let this go.

“Because that’s what lovers do, you immortal idiot,” said Daniel fondly, his voice growing softer to match the quiet gasps of his partner. “Because I love you, every part of you, your red curls and your soft shoulders, I love the face you make when I play with your nipples or bite your thighs. Gorgeous.”

“Soft shoulders?” Armand asked with a quirk of his brow, visibly amused. He wasn’t sure he’d ever had such a compliment before. Slowly he extracted himself from beneath Daniel to lean against his headboard, enjoying the sensation of his own bedding against his fingertips as he tried desperately to understand why he didn’t feel at all grounded within this situation.

Daniel looked up as his lover edged away from him, admittedly a little hurt. Hadn’t he been doing a good job? God knows they were both hard. Maybe he wanted more kisses; Armand loved long nights making out. So he followed, taking Armand’s chin in his fingers, and drew his face up to offer more kisses.

“It isn’t you,” Armand reassured between kisses, understanding and adoring Daniel’s eagerness to please without having access to his mind. With a small sigh he pushed past his own thoughts, hands travelling to Daniel’s shirt again and making to remove it.

Daniel sighed at Armand’s hands on his chest, as they traced down his ribs, then over the ridges of his spine, not repulsed by his overly thin frame at all, and he adored him all the more for it. “Tell me what you want, pretty thing,” he whispered, dancing his fingers over Armand’s mussed curls. “You’re getting fucked one way or another but I’ll let you choose how.”

Armand laughed softly into the kiss, lifting Daniel’s shirt off entirely before tossing it aside. The thought amused and thrilled him in the same breath, that there was no option than to be taken by Daniel this night. “How about something different?” he asked tenderly. “How about you don’t try to be something powerful and brutal, and you just fuck me how you would have done all those years ago given the chance.”

“Can you even get off if a man isn’t holding you down or taking a whip to your sweet little ass?” he asked, and he brought his hand up to give a sharp pinch to a soft, pink nipple.

Armand gasped, much to his own chagrin at the question. “Keep on with that attitude and you’ll not be getting off at all tonight, Daniel,” he chastised, genuinely a little affronted. “Must there always be some show? Some intense and vicious display of power? Can we not just enjoy one another?”

Daniel drew back slightly, both of them shirtless, Armand’s jeans around his ankles. “Of course babe, but I like playing with you like this, and you do too…don’t you?” he asked, suddenly a little insecure. “I know I’m not as powerful or imposing as Marius…”

“And I didn’t choose you to replace him, Daniel. Or to live up to him. I chose you for you, because you are something different entirely.” Armand sighed, lifting Daniel’s hand and pressing a kiss to his palm, and then to his wrist, the pulse of blood beneath his skin suddenly calling to him. “If you like it, then by all means, continue. But do not feel as though you have to meet any standards.”

Daniel breathed slowly, watching Armand’s lips on his skin and struggled to find something to say. He did enjoy these games, he liked giving Armand a spanking or talking dirty, he liked putting him on his knees…perhaps he didn’t have the natural predilection to it that Marius had but he did like it. And he knew how much Armand liked it…

He kissed him again, slow this time, deep but gentle, and laid himself down on pillows beside him, luxuriating in the deep, plush cocoon.

Armand smiled softly. Despite the kiss, he’d never released Daniel’s wrist, and now he lay beside him he brought his lips to it again, never breaking eye contact. This was all he wanted just now. Intimacy. Reveling in one another’s company and bodies. He deposited another kiss, dragging his lips upon his skin before grazing it lightly with his fangs.

Daniel watched him with a quickening heart as he teased over the vein, scratching just enough to cut the top layer of skin but not draw blood. “Do it,” he encouraged gently. “I know you worry about me often but I’m not frail, I feed every night. Do it.”

Armand sighed faintly. Daniel was right, he was worried for him, particularly now. He did not of all things want to make Daniel relive what had happened to him or invoke any memory of it by taking his blood. “You’re sure?” he murmured, eyes fluttering shut briefly as he attempted to control himself, as the scent of Daniel’s blood sang to the predator within him.

“…I love when you treat me like something precious,” confessed Daniel with a quick glance aside. “I like when you worry after me, and fuss. It’s…nice to be loved in such a way. But I’m not delicate or starving, despite how I look. Bite.”

“No, you’re not. But you are mine. And I’ve not spent nearly enough time treating you as a maker should. I’ve not spent nearly enough time protecting you, Daniel.” Armand shuddered as Daniel’s pulse quickened, loathing to be the villain here, loathing to take when he only wanted to give. He traced a vein with his tongue though, unable to pull himself away. Just one more affirmation, and he was afraid of what he might do.

Daniel pulled Armand closer, pressing their brows together and brushed his lips against Armand’s, not even a full, true kiss, just taking in one another’s breath, listening to Armand’s heartbeat. “You’re not under house arrest. You can take me hunting after. You can take someone down for me like I was newly made and clumsy, you can play the maker you weren’t able to be on the Island, or when I was with Marius. But for now, bite.”

Armand closed his eyes, reveling in this intimacy, marveling in it. And how could he have this if he took from Daniel? If he took too much and made him too weak? How would he forgive himself now on the slim chance he managed to break his trust? He brushed his lips against Daniel’s, once, twice, before kissing him fully and releasing his wrist. He wouldn’t do it, couldn’t do it. Not now.

Daniel got the message; he didn’t quite get why Armand was so hesitant to take his blood, but something was hurting. Guilt at not being there when he was newly made? He wasn’t sure, but he wouldn’t push it either.

He cupped Armand’s cheek instead, opening his mouth to him, and bit at Armand’s tongue instead, tasting the few drops of his maker’s blood it gave.

Armand pressed his tongue further into Daniel’s mouth, making sure to tear a bigger wound for him. For him to drink as much as he wanted. And the kiss was so much better for it. He brought his hands to Daniel’s shoulders and pushed him down gently, straddling his hips as he deepened the kiss even further.

Daniel let himself enjoy this, without reservation, attempting to enjoy it without anxiety. Armand’s blood was sweeter than any other, richer, warming him entirely at even a taste. Was it this way for everyone and the one who gave them the dark blood, or was this purely the two of them? Didn’t matter. He kept a hand knotted gently into Armand’s curls, whining shamelessly into his mouth as he ground himself up against Armand between his parted legs.

Armand fisted his hand into the fabric of Daniel’s underwear and tore them away without any preamble, leaving the both of them bare to the room and giving Daniel ample opportunity to thrust as he pleased. He cut another wound into his tongue before it could heal, unwilling to stop this font of nourishment pouring into Daniel

He shivered once, the room cooler than he would like even on his dead skin, but it didn’t matter, not with Armand above him, bare as he was, to cover him, to offer his warm, rich blood, which Daniel took gratefully.

“Love you,” he whispered once he’d managed to pull away for a moment. He reached down, scratching lightly up the inside of Armand’s thighs, trailing his finger over the thick hair to find him. “Always loved you.”

Armand laughed richly at this, deepening his thrusts as he watched Daniel get flustered beneath him. “You’ve said those exact words tonight already, my love, and besides I don’t believe you. I kidnapped then stalked you, remember, you didn’t always love me.” He brought his hands to Daniel’s legs, stroking his inner thighs with his thumbs gently.

“That’s some impressive self-awareness, Boss,” Daniel whispered, his mind not really focused on being witty right now, not with Armand’s body so flush against his, his mouth still close enough to kiss, wandering hands and soft lips. He wanted to fuck him, but that seemed too distant, would take too long, and he didn’t want to put any space between them, not right now. He didn’t want Armand’s hands off of him, or his body to leave his.

“So you admit it?” Armand spoke against Daniel’s mouth, fingers travelling further still, to caress his sack, to glide over his length with immeasurable skill.

Holy shit was this little monster really trying to have a deep conversation while giving him a hand job?! “I…you scared me,” he panted, hating and loving how Armand could make him feel like a teenager again. “But after a while it thrilled me too.”

“After a while…” Armand repeated knowingly, hand wrapping around Daniel’s cock gently as he’d been given the confirmation he needed. Honesty—that’s all he wanted from Daniel, all he had mind for as he began to slowly pump his fist.

Oh this bastard, this was not what was supposed to happen, he wasn’t supposed to be pinned down like this, playing submissive, and despite how pleasurable Armand’s soft, thin fingers were, how delightful his laugh, Daniel couldn’t suppress a wave of anxiety that cut through his passion, and he could only hope Armand didn’t notice.

But Armand did notice. He could tell it a mile off, from anyone who had experienced it. Because he knew it for himself. He drew back, taking Daniel’s hand with him and pressing gentle kisses to his palm again as he tried to work out what he needed, before removing himself from Daniel and lying beside him, legs spread in an invitation.

Daniel raked his eyes over Armand’s body, offered to him with the most gentle look of adoration and tenderness on his face, an expression so few would even know Armand was capable of. “Only if you want it too, babe,” Daniel murmured, rolling over and drawing close to Armand, trailing a hand up his parted thigh.

“Of course I do. I want you. In any way you’ll have me,” he said sweetly, arching into Daniel’s touch and bringing a hand to his face again. Whatever he needed. Whatever he needed to feel powerful, and beautiful, and in control. Armand would provide it.

Such perfect words, pretty words for Daniel alone. He knew he wasn’t this tender and slow with Marius, and he believed Armand when he swore he would never make another, so it was something to cherish, knowing these words were only for him.

Daniel bit into the fleshy base of his thumb, letting his palm fill with blood as he settled between Armand’s spread legs, wetting him quickly. Old habits and all; he watched for any pain on his lover’s face as he breached him with two fingers, as though such a thing could pain Armand.

“You don’t have to do this, my love,” Armand said tenderly, reveling in the sensation all the same as his voice caught itself in a small gasp. “If you want to take control, I do not need this. Ruin me, if you’d like to.”

“…Jesus Christ, Armand, I’d never do that!” Daniel insisted, stopping a bit awkwardly with two fingers already up his lover’s ass. “I don’t….I don’t want…” But fuck if he knew what he wanted. Instead, he diverted himself, bending down to take Armand’s length into his mouth as he slipped in a third finger. No, he couldn’t hurt Armand like that. It was Armand who called what happened to Daniel rape, but to Daniel, that was Armand’s trauma, not his own, and he’d never inflict such an image on him.

Armand hadn’t meant it in such a way, but he could understand Daniel’s concerns and nodded, simply allowing him to continue the way he wished to. The added benefit of those lips around him wasn’t entirely unwelcome either, and he arched up slightly to inform him of that.

Good, that’s what he wanted, for Armand to enjoy this, to feel loved, and cherished and…and he couldn’t help but grab hold of his hip with his free hand, digging his nails in just a little, to hold him still. “Love you like this…love seeing you lie back for me like this.”

Armand hummed in response, not wanting Daniel to feel ignored as he worked him. He closed his eyes and allowed the various sensations to roll over his body. “Danny, I beg you not to drag this out…please. I want you.”

Danny could drag this out. They’ve played such games before, teasing each other for hours on end, eliciting the most filthy noises and bargaining from the other. But that wasn’t for now. That was a game for a night of less urgency, for when Daniel’s head wasn’t a mess of screaming and panic, when he wasn’t so eager to just be inside him and feel needed.

It was a smooth push into his body, blood being an excellent lubricant against their satin skin, and he kept himself quiet to better hear Armand.

Armand smiled softly, pushing himself onto Daniel to allow him to go deeper. He braced himself upon Daniel’s biceps, locking eyes with him appreciatively as he dwelt on the feeling. The all familiar and delicious burn of this, that for all of his tendencies to flirt and seduce he allowed so few people to truly enjoy. “I love you too,” he murmured for the first time that night, in response to the many times Daniel had said it himself.

Daniel breathed in deep, desperate gulps, almost embarrassed at what Armand could do to him but damn it, it was Armand, the little Renaissance angel who could enchant a straight man out of his newlyweds arms. Fuck anyone who didn’t think they’d be just as overwhelmed with Armand.

He kissed him hungrily, wanting more of his lips, more of that blood.

Armand laughed softly and tore a particularly deep gash into his own tongue, letting the blood pour into Daniel’s mouth uninhibited. He wanted this. He wanted to feel weak from it by the time Daniel was done. He moaned quietly into Daniel’s mouth as he began to move.

Daniel drank eagerly, as addicted to that blood as he was the first time Armand teased him with a single drop of it, just enough to light him up. And now he was given swallow after swallow of it, this wonderful elixir that made him what he was, and God, Armand was tight and squeezed him so wonderfully, his legs strong around his hips and how could he ever have been without him?

Armand fell into it, Daniel’s languid pace and the sheer thirst of his kiss, and started to match Daniel’s rhythm with an equal hunger. He took one of Daniel’s hands and linked it with his own, tightening himself and his legs further to increase Daniel’s pleasure.

Daniel groaned softly as Armand took hold of his hand. This sort of tenderness had rarely been their MO before, when sex was frenzied and bloody. They almost never took their time like this, Daniel savoring each pull of Armand’s body, his legs tight around him. Each slow thrust dragged his stomach over Armand’s cock, hard and desperate between them. He wanted to spill more words for Armand, adore him and lathe him in praise the way he loved, but all Daniel could do was grip his hand harder and lean down to kiss his offered throat. No biting, no blood, not just then.

Armand sighed into the kisses, reveling in how…almost human this whole thing felt. When you took away the blood and the fangs and the viciousness, it was easy to forget about everything sometimes. “Je t’aime,” he moaned softly, knowing that although Daniel couldn’t speak French—and it was often fun to insult him with it in front of his face—he understood this phrase well.

“Love you too,” he sighed, suckling the skin beneath Armand’s ear and mouthing at his jaw line, his breath shuddering against Armand’s skin. He rarely thought of sex as making love, sappy shit, but fuck if he could think of better words for how it felt to have Armand hand at his neck, listening to his soft, sighing moans as he fucked him slow and deep. This was better, this felt controlled and calm, satiating.

“Deeper,” Armand demanded softly, needing to feel as close to Daniel as he possibly could, needing all of him, before remembering what Daniel needed in this moment above all else was control. “Please.”

Daniel would be loath to deny Armand anything he wanted, though truthfully there was only so much more he could do in this particular area. But he’d damn well try. Arching his back above Armand, he ripped his lover’s hips up, bending his small form beneath him, and savored the pained but delighted little noises he made. God, he loved him, he needed him, and having him in such a carnal, such a mortal way was almost enough for Daniel to forget the trouble he’d caused Armand.

Well Armand hadn’t expected such a gesture, such an intrusion. And he adored every second of it. He gasped sharply with almost every thrust as Daniel took him to new heights, and he was helpless against it. “Perfect,” he moaned, eyes never leaving Daniel’s. How radiant they were. How long it had been for them, for the virus.

Ordinarily Daniel got almost shy when Armand stared so deeply; his creepy little boyfriend and those haunted glass doll eyes. But right now he wanted to see him, and he let go of his hand just long enough to wind back a sweat dampened curl before grasping for him again. “You’re perfect, babe,” he whispered, strained and pleased with the heat gathering in his body. “Armand—fuck—Armand, I love you. Wanna be good for you.”

“And I you, darling. Take what you want, what you need. That would please me above all else,” he promised, pressing a kiss to Daniel’s forearm as it stood beside him, before turning quickly away at the scent of his blood again.

Daniel groaned deeply, feeling Armand squeeze tightly around him; he could be embarrassed at how much easier it was to get Daniel riled up than Armand but his lover had almost 500 years more life experience than him.

He wanted more of Armand’s blood, and he groaned against his throat at the enticing pulse, but he wouldn’t let himself take more, when their lovemaking was enough.

“I told you, Danny, take what you want…I love it when you do it,” Armand assured, voice interrupted with each thrust now. He arched his throat further, his own breathing becoming more labored on instinct as they made love.

Daniel wanted it. He wanted blood on his tongue, he wanted that crackle in his skull, knowing Armand was his and willing and adored him—

He bit, and let the blood flood into his mouth in a shameful way, feeling it spill past his lips and stain the covers beneath them, a sinful mockery of wedding sheets, but he would worry on that later. His movements became erratic as he drank, and he couldn’t give Armand much warning before he came, biting again as he did so.

Armand cradled his head, tightening himself deliberately around Daniel to make it all the more pleasurable and allowing him to drink for as long as he needed to after this. He wouldn’t finish himself, he didn’t need to, and the thrill of Daniel’s completion alone was enough to satisfy him.

Daniel held what weight he could on his forearms, not wanting to leave, wanting to stay buried in Armand’s body and held on his arms. He kissed the wounds closed, shivering at every movement. “Sorry…msorry, baby…”

Armand frowned softly, forcing Daniel to collapse onto him as gently as possible and cradling his head against his chest. He pressed a few kisses to his sandy hair, before wrapping his arms around him entirely. “For what, darling?” he soothed. This new name, this variation of babe…he loved it just as much.

Daniel could feel Armand shake slightly beneath him, not terribly put out but definitely cold from how much blood Daniel had taken. “I’ll go hunt for you, baby, alright?” he said, finally and reluctantly slipping from Armand. “I’ll kill two if I need, for you.”

Armand shook his head immediately, tightening his arms around Daniel. In truth, he did feel the blood loss. Not immensely, but enough for it to be noticeable. But he was tired of Daniel worrying for him. “Don’t you go anywhere. I can hunt for myself if I need it, my love.”

“But I took too much,” Daniel whispered, petting back Armand’s damp hair. “You’re weak…I can’t just leave you weak, honey, I’m sorry…”

“I’ll show you weak if you keep this up,” Armand shot lazily, closing his eyes and unraveling his legs from Daniel’s waist. He had no intention at all of letting him go though. “You took just the right amount. You took what you wanted, as I asked.”

Daniel knew this, and knew that Armand could only be pushed so far. Of course, Daniel could match him tit for tat, their stubbornness combined was the stuff of legend, but snuggled up close like this, ah, did it even matter? Daniel couldn’t argue anymore, not with everything they had gone through. Why add more weight to their burden?

So for this time, just this one time, he let Armand win, gathering him up so they might lie in one another’s arms, Daniel well fed on blood and his maker’s hard-won affection.


	21. Personal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor discusses his gay panic with his father, then Lestat visits David in house arrest, who's having troubling dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter where the vampires start using text messaging, and I've transcribed their texts. Unfortunately, the actual emojis don't copy/paste into ao3, so you will just see the description of the emoji between two colons :like this:  
> Yes, Gregory doesn't quite understand how to use emojis. Give him a break, he's 6000 years old.

Viktor had been wandering the castle, alternating between biting his nails, making small talk with passing friends, and desperately searching for Lestat. Somehow, that seemed the best option, to go to Lestat, his dad, his real one. This didn’t seem like a Seth or Fareed thing and definitely not something for his mother…definitely not to Rose, either.

He finally caught sight of Lestat walking with Thorne and about to disappear through one of the salons. Viktor used his speed to cross the large room and grab hold of his arm.

The suddenness startled Lestat from his pensive state of mind. Nobody ever grabbed him that way, and his instinct was immediately defensive. He was instantly grateful he didn’t let it take over, though, and do anything violent when he realized it was Viktor who had him.

Lestat scanned his son quickly, but couldn’t detect anything the matter to necessitate such urgency, so chalked it up to the boy being dramatic and offered him a faintly amused smile. “There you are,” he said, pleased to see him.

Viktor returned the smile, though he was just a little strained. He gave a polite grin as well to Thorne, who had been walking with Lestat, respectful to those who kept his father safe.

He turned back to Lestat. “D…Father? I was wondering if we could talk…alone? I have something…important…to discuss.”

“Of course, my love.” Lestat dismissed Thorne with a nod and then led Viktor back into the conveniently empty salon, closing the doors behind them and locking them. Viktor’s distress was starting to concern him now, and he took him by the arm, studying his face. “Are you in trouble?” he asked without any tone of judgment.

Viktor shook his head immediately before Lestat could reach for his wallet or his cell phone. “Not in any trouble, I promise… In fact, I just got teased for that… No, it’s just…David? Up in your rooms? Well, I was up there looking for a book, and he’s up there… Of course, you know he’s up there. You put him there… But anyway, we were chatting, and he was a bit…off.”

Lestat instantly felt cold. He hadn’t thought anyone needed protecting from David other than Armand and Daniel. _Off_ didn’t sound like anything terrible happened. But what if it had?? How could Lestat have been so stupid not to just bar David from absolutely everybody? His hand tightened on Viktor’s arm in an instinctive protective grasp. “Did he frighten you?” He shook his head apologetically.

“No! Though I think he felt I should have been frightened,” Viktor said thoughtfully, but he shook his head against it. No room for that. “No, David was kind to me! I mean, he’s my brother of sorts, after all, isn’t he? So of course, he would be friendly… Actually, perhaps that’s just all it was, even… I feel I’m being a bother now…”

If David was _trying_ to frighten Viktor, that was still concerning. Of course, Lestat wasn’t surprised that Vikor was brave enough not to be frightened. Being made by Marius and receiving blood from every single ancient at court, Vikor was exceedingly powerful for a newborn fledgling, and he could hold his own with David if needed. But Lestat didn’t want that to ever be a matter of concern.

Viktor calling David his _brother_ didn’t sit right with Lestat, but he was too preoccupied to dwell much on why. “You could never be a bother to me, dear boy. Was he friendly, then?” he asked, now confused. “Did he seem…temperamental?”

Viktor tried to sort out his thoughts logically, remembering how Seth would talk him through overwhelmed tantrums as a child, guide him into an orderly way of thinking. “Not temperamental, no, but he was uptight and obviously had a lot on his mind… I think he was also frightened of himself, as he was a bit…touchy. As in tactile.”

Lestat continued to stare at Viktor, waiting for more, for him to get to the part that was a problem…but then he realized he was done. “Do you mean you think he was afraid he might hurt you? He has been having trouble controlling his temper. If he was rude to you, standoffish, please don’t take it personally. He has had a rather difficult week…to put it mildly.” Lifting a hand, he smoothed Vikor’s hair back from the side of his face, tucking it tenderly behind his ear.

Viktor let out a slow breath, smiling at the touch. He knew his father was a very touchy—tactile, loving man, but he still felt awkward seeking out that love from him. He soaked up anything that was offered. “No, Father, not rude or standoffish at all… It’s just…um…Father? Can I ask you something a bit…personal?”

“You may,” he said without giving it a thought. There was truly very little he would ever care to keep from his son, no matter how personal. Lestat’s life had been an open book for decades now. Several open books!

Viktor immediately wanted to backtrack, awkwardly tracing his own hand over where his father’s had been, smoothing down his hair. “David…in your books, especially when you were human?” he began, finding it hard to meet his father’s eye. “You thought he was…that David was very attractive, didn’t you? And in this new, younger body as well, yes?”

Lestat nodded easily. “I miss him in his old body. I’ve always been sorry I destroyed it so impulsively. But he enjoys his new body well enough. And it certainly is beautiful to behold. It was chosen for that reason, of course. But David would be attractive in any body he inhabited.” He pressed a fingertip to the center of Viktor’s chest in demonstration. “It is _David_ whom I love. The one inside.”

Viktor nodded, drinking up his words. He knew people often called his father vain, which was true, but they also called him shallow, which was an absolute lie. Father found beauty in everyone, especially mortals, even if they did not have much aesthetic beauty. Oh, of course, he would praise bright eyes and radiant skin and a beautiful figure, but he saw so much more than that.

“Right…and you’ve…you’ve always found people like David attractive? I mean like…people like…men?”

Like _men_? It took Lestat a moment to understand what Viktor was asking, only because it was such an absurd question. It was like the kid was asking Lestat if he was capable of love at all, which obviously he was.

“Yes, always,” Lestat answered, studying Viktor’s face as if a greater explanation would reveal himself. “I find women attractive too, if that’s what you’re getting after,” he said, not at all minding these questions, even though they confused him. “Your mother was exceedingly attractive to me.” The word attractive was beginning to lose all meaning, but it seemed to be important to Viktor, so Lestat stuck with it.

Ah. Yes. Viktor had read that. He’d read everything about that, of course, and he’d long learned to not be terribly shy about such stories. He nodded, still somewhat distracted as he tried to sort out his thoughts. “Right…and I mean…of course, you always knew? That you enjoyed both men and women? You had…you had Nicki, after all, by the time you were my mortal age.”

“Yes,” Lestat said, smiling a little in endeared amusement at Viktor’s scattered mind. “But he was hardly my first lover,” he said easily. Perhaps the first one Lestat had been very serious about—but seriousness didn’t seem to be what Viktor was wondering about here. “Didn’t you have any lovers?” he asked, as if it were a perfectly normal question. “When you were away at school?” Lestat would have been sleeping with half his class if he’d ever had the chance to go off to a wonderful school like Viktor did as a boy.

Viktor shook his head, a little embarrassed. Should he be embarrassed about that? He wasn’t sure. “No, I was far too interested in my lessons to be wanting a girlfriend,” he said earnestly, yet suddenly wondering if that made him sound…uncool? Did that matter? Did he care if his dad thought he was cool? “Rose was….well, she was my first in _every_ way. And I adore her.”

Lestat laughed, putting a hand against Viktor’s shoulder. “Didn’t your parents ever let you have any fun? And I thought mine were bad.” He sighed, smiling as he studied Viktor’s gorgeous face. “How I wish they’d let me know about you. The things I would have done for you…” But there was no sense in dwelling on that now. Viktor was a well-raised boy, and for that, Lestat was grateful. “And there is nothing to be embarrassed about, my son. You can be completely open with me. Even about Rose.” If it were anyone else, Lestat wasn’t sure how he’d feel about hearing about his precious little daughter’s sex life. But the fact that it was Viktor made everything seem natural and all right.

“Oh, no, no no no, Rose and I are fine!” Viktor assured his dad quickly. His beautiful, passionate Rose. No, this didn’t have anything to do with her. Well…not directly. Maybe? He was pretty sure. “No, it’s just that…I was wondering…how does one know, pray tell, that they find another man attractive in the…romantic way, versus the purely aesthetic way?”

Was there a difference? Lestat fell half in love with almost every new person he met. Romance had never been a separate thing for him. He tilted his head a little as if it would help him see Viktor better. “You mean when someone arouses passion in you, I think. Is that right? Surely you know what this feels like.”

“That, I think, yes,” Viktor said, drawing a little closer as he nodded. “I’m sorry if this is a conversation you didn’t think you’d be having with your grown son. It’s just…well, when I was speaking to David, he was just so…enigmatic.” Yes, that seemed the right word! “So charming, so…so handsome! And he reached out once to touch my face-” And Viktor touched himself in the same place, eyes distant as he recalled David’s hand. “And it just felt quite…alluring… Of course, I reminded him I was married,” Viktor finished with a casual shrug, as though that settled whatever matter he was trying to breech.

Lestat nodded. Yes, of course, all this made sense. Viktor would have to be a fool not to find David alluring. Anyone would have to be. “You found yourself aroused by him,” he said in understanding. He squeezed Viktor comfortingly. “Are you thirsting for his blood? Have you come to ask my permission for it?” It seemed like something Viktor might think was necessary. Normally, Lestat would think that ridiculous, but he honestly wasn’t sure David was fit for it now. What if it triggered his violence again?

“Thirsting for—oh, no, nothing like that,” Viktor rushed to assure Lestat firmly, though his dad looked skeptical. “I just mean…he’s very handsome. And it got me to think how many of your friends are handsome. But in…but like…just because you think your friends are beautiful doesn’t mean you… _want_ …them…right?”

“Well, why not?” Lestat asked philosophically. “And so what if you do? Is it a big deal?” Lestat shook his head, smiling at his poor flustered son. “It is the same with mortals for you, isn’t it? You choose your victims from all types of people, and they are equally alluring to you. Old and young, beautiful and hideous, male and female. Such distinctions don’t matter to our kind when it comes down to it. So why should it be any different amongst ourselves as well? Consider your father, Fareed. I do not think he ever loved a man in his mortal life, but now he and Seth are inseparable.”

Viktor considered this quietly, savoring every word and gentle touch he gave him. Of _course_ that made sense! Everything about the world had become so much more dazzling and intense since his rebirth; there was a reason the elders always made jokes about fledgling’s attractiong to a candle flame, after all. Everyone was beautiful to Viktor now, every mortal seeming as enticing and delicious as the next.

“That is an immense relief, thank you,” Viktor said with a laugh to himself. “And here I was wondering how I was going to tell Rose that I think I might want to see what’s it’s like to have a boyfriend!”

“But do you want that?” Lestat asked carefully, absorbing as much as he could glean from Viktor’s thoughts. Would Viktor taking another lover make Rose jealous? Lestat didn’t like that thought at all.

Viktor’s smile faded a little, and he shifted his weight from hip to hip as he picked up on Lestat’s hesitation. Had he said something wrong? He often felt like he’d said something wrong around here. He was as well-educated as any of them, a classic education, but even compared to the likes of Fareed or Daniel or other young ones, he felt himself somehow wanting for something.

“Well no, not really,” he amended. “I was more teasing, really!”

Lestat studied Viktor silently for a minute, and from Lestat’s expression it was unclear whether he was displeased or not, but he revealed nothing to confirm. When he spoke it was more quietly, more seriously. “Who can say what whims your heart may have taken if you remained mortal, or if you were raised in a freer environment. Perhaps you would have been like me, or perhaps you would have never wanted anyone in this world but Rose until the day you died an old man. As a vampire, though, you will find there is more room in your heart for many great loves over time. And if you are falling in love with David, you should talk to Rose about it before you talk to me. He is not mine to keep.”

 _Falling in love with David_? How had he even…no! This was just a simple question about why Viktor suddenly couldn’t stop thinking about touching him. Nothing like love!

“…Father,” he pressed cautiously, a thought striking him, something to try and bring the topic away from this careening disaster he felt it was. “You have many great loves, yes, but it’s Louis who is yours…and I know Louis has had his…adventures…too. But if Louis came to you saying he wanted another, just so up front and simple, wouldn’t it hurt?”

Lestat knew Viktor was really asking about Rose. But if Rose was going to be hurt by Viktor’s wandering heart or fangs, it was better that he be honest with her about it from the start. Lestat loathed the idea of her being hurt at all, but what could he do? There was only one right way to manage it.

“It would hurt if Louis told me he was _leaving me_ for another.” Even saying it with such an attempt at calm practicality hurt. Hit too close to home for Lestat’s troubled spirit lately, but he tried to hide it. “It would hurt if he told me he was leaving me at all. But if he does not mean to leave me, how could I be hurt if he was doing what made him happy while still loving me?” He frowned then as he considered Viktor. “But I’m almost two-hundred-sixty years old. Rose is a child. I do not know how she will feel, if the blood has made her long to explore other loves of her own, or if she yet clings to mortal sentimentality. You are both still living out your first mortal lifetime. But there is no sense in denying whatever desires you feel. Lying to yourselves will only tear you apart.”

“Oh no, it’s nothing like that,” Viktor tried to convince his rather skeptical father. “You and Louis…and Armand and…Gregory…of course, I know how normal it is,” he tried to brush away. He took out his cell phone, as though checking an alert, in case he needed an escape from this awkward meandering. What had he really even wanted to know that his father could provide? “I could never love another but Rose!”

Lestat laughed softly. “That’s not true.” He waved a dismissive hand. “But it also doesn’t matter. Enjoy looking at all your beautiful friends, Viktor, without embarrassment or shame. Be gay, do crimes, whatever young people are saying these days. Just because you never found a man attractive before our David doesn’t mean you weren’t capable of it. David can be quite impossible to resist. And he adores you, I know he does, as we all do. But…please tell me the next time you visit him up in my tower. I am worried about him. He is…not well.”

Despite the cheese of his father trying to sound like he knew how to talk to the very young, Viktor adored him all the more just then, and the candid way he was able to speak to Viktor. As an adult, though he was just a child to him. “David seemed…agitated… He told me that Armand and Daniel are to be avoided entirely?”

“He has been having extreme, violent bouts of temper. He says Armand and Daniel bring it out in him, but I do not know if it is limited to them. He is not himself at all in these moments.” Lestat didn’t want to say he was worried David might hurt Viktor, because it was too painful to think of that ever even being a possibility. So he merely left it implied and moved to put his arms around Viktor adoringly.

Viktor’s heart leapt at the touch, and he let himself be held, laying his head on his father’s shoulder. “Well…I’m sure he’ll be alright. As for Louis, who knows. Maybe I’ll be the next one to seduce him,” he teased, laughing through it at the very image of being with another, let alone a man, let alone his beloved Louis!

Lestat wasn’t sure David _would_ be all right. Wasn’t sure at all. But he didn’t want to let Viktor see how distressed he was about it. He didn’t want any of his own troubles to darken Viktor’s spirit. Lestat turned his face against Viktor’s hair, kissing it. He knew he ought to laugh at Viktor’s joke about Louis, but he didn’t have the heart for it. Seduce Louis, indeed… Lestat could barely even get Louis to _talk_ to him anymore.

He lingered another moment, before reluctantly releasing his son. “Experiment with mortals,” he advised as a place for Viktor to start. “Let them help you learn what you like.”

Well that was sweet advice and all, but Viktor doubted he would need it. He studied his father a long moment, his gleaming skin and eyes so near his own, and he drew him close again. He could never have enough of this, not after wanting it for so long. “David will be ok. And I know you’re hurting in other ways too… Maybe I can help? We’re family, right?”

The action surprised Lestat, but he moved his arms back around Viktor again. His words only elicited a sigh from Lestat. There was nothing the boy could do to help him, no matter how amiable his intentions. “Don’t worry about it,” he urged gently but seriously. “Please.”

Viktor couldn’t help but worry. As he’d said, they were family. Just because he hadn’t grown up in Lestat’s arms didn’t make that any less true, and he would worry after him as family did.

Before parting again, he kissed each of Lestat’s cheeks, and tucked his hair back in a mirror of what Lestat did for him. “I can distract you sometime, perhaps,” he suggested instead. “We can go off somewhere together. Take me to New Orleans, maybe, or somewhere you haven’t gone. Surely there are places even you haven’t seen yet!”

The physical affection warmed Lestat and he managed to smile despite his mood. “Yes, let’s,” he said with a touch of longing, eager to see how Viktor viewed the world through his young eyes. “But only for a night. Princes don’t get vacations, you know.”

———————————————————————

David was having that dream again. The one that surely came from the bits of memory circuits left in the brain of this body, from its original owner's soul. The one where he was walking through a dark familiar house and senselessly going room to room, strangling his family.

First the children, two of them, then his wife, his brother-in-law, and his mother-in-law. All of them struggle as he holds them down. The wife escapes and screams for the others, who happen to be dead already. But he catches her easily, covering her mouth with one hand while he snaps her neck rather quickly.

There’s no blood in this dream, just struggling and fighting and his own overwhelming urge to take all the life out of them. The children are the hardest part to dream through. He always wakes in a blood sweat, heart like a jack-hammer in his chest, staring up at the ceiling, waiting for normal to return.

David wondered if he was allowed to go hunt? The balcony was right there. Lestat didn’t tell him if could he leave to hunt. It seemed like he should be able to. It wasn’t against vampire laws to do that. Unless Lestat intended that David should be on dungeon food for the rest of his incarceration.

David just wanted to kill something… maybe terrorize it a little first, then chase it down, then kill it cruelly.

Outside the main double doors of the tower apartment, Lestat tapped to announce his presence before letting himself in. When he didn’t see David in the front rooms, he was momentarily seized with panic that he’d ‘escaped’ and run off to do something mad and dangerous again. But Lestat made himself remain outwardly calm as he went to check the bedroom, and then he relaxed once he found David there in bed.

David turned his head on the pillow and noticed Lestat in the doorway. “Ah, you’ve appeared.” He stared blankly at Lestat, then smiled, a bit forced. “I’m thirsty.”

Crossing the room, Lestat put a knee on the bed to lean over David. He smoothed his black hair back from his sweaty forehead. “You look a fright,” he said softly with concern.

“Thanks. I am a fright lately.”

David pulled Lestat down and kissed him hungrily. “Do I get to hunt? Am I allowed to go do that, at least? If you don’t let me go kill things… You can’t keep a tiger all chained down, you know.”

Lestat rolled onto the bed with him. “Yes, yes, yes,” he said with a sigh. “Do what you want with mortals. It’s only our kind I mean to chain you against. Should I come with you? Do you need a chaperone?” He took David’s face in one hand, moving it to where he could better see him.

“Well, if you want to see the bloodshed, by all means, join me.” He let himself be manhandled a bit. “What are you doing? I’m fine. I have bad dreams is all.”

“What dreams?” Lestat asked with a frown. Something about the way David said that disturbed him.

David frowned at that. Why wouldn’t Lestat know where Louis was? He decided to let it go for now. “Dreams. I have dreams about killing. I think these are not the usual hunting dreams, though.” David tried not to let himself remember them again, he was just shaking off the last one he’d had. “Maybe I have them because I’m hungry. Where were you all evening? Did you see Louis?” David wrapped a hand around Lestat’s upper arm to make sure he stayed and didn’t leave again.

“I’ve been doing my damn job. Where do you think I’ve been?” His gaze slipped past David, and his hand on his face softened to just cup his jaw. “If you want Louis, call to him. You can do that, anyway. I don’t know where he is.” He was avoiding Lestat. Again.

“Doing your damned job?” He mocked with a slight French accent like Lestat’s. “What is that exactly?”

Lestat’s hand curled, brushing the backs of his knuckles against David’s cheek. “Oh, nothing much, really,” he answered sarcastically. “The court pretty much runs itself. But I do have to try to look busy, you know. Answer emails, make calls. Otherwise the others will catch wise and take away my crown.”

David let his grip on Lestat’s arm loosen a little, since it seemed he didn’t intend to leave again right away. “Well, they have plenty of options if they want to give it to someone else. And then you could kick them all out of your castle and have more privacy.”

The hypothetical thought of seriously losing his title and the court leaving his house tugged at Lestat’s heart in a way that surprised him. Was privacy even what he wanted? Or escape? These things were Lestat’s and he wanted to keep them, even if they had come to weigh on him so roughly lately.

David slid his arm beneath Lestat’s head and kissed him again. “I love you. You will stay with me today,” he pronounced, fingers sliding through Lestat’s soft hair.

He let David’s kiss distract him, returning it this time gratefully. “Oh I will, will I?” He gave him a dubious look that wasn’t very serious. “Have you grown lonely in your tower prison already?”

David considered those words. It seemed like Lestat might mean something by that last question. “No… I’m not lonely yet. Apparently, I’m allowed certain visitors. So you trust me that much, still? Though perhaps you shouldn’t… I think I wouldn’t, if roles were reversed.” He ran one finger down along Lestat’s temple to the line of his jaw.

Lestat took David’s words seriously, as painful as it was to consider the truth of whatever condition he was suffering. “Perhaps you’re right,” he admitted, turning his face a little against David’s touch. “Viktor told me you were kind to him. But I told him next time he comes up here to tell me he’s doing so. I see no point in you having no visitors. But if you don’t trust yourself not to harm them, well then, we just won’t let you see them alone. There’s been no outcry yet that your punishment’s too lax. So you may enjoy my nepotism to its hilt.”

David laughed at that. “Chaperone him, by all means. He’s literally pure as the driven snow.” He pulled Lestat in and kissed him again, giving into the urge he’d been resisting since Lestat entered, biting his lip with one fang and sucking on the blood that welled up.

Lestat’s hand moved up into David’s hair, curling around the back of his head. An excitement he hadn’t felt in quite a while began to surface with that kiss, and he shifted on the bed to move more over David. Turning his face, he pressed his mouth under David’s jaw, then to his throat, his lips moving against his skin as he spoke. “Let’s go out and kill things.”

“Yes,” David said a bit breathless. “I really like killing things, lately.” He tilted his head a bit to give Lestat better access. “And then we will come back, and you will stay with me for the day.”

David couldn’t explain even to himself why, but he didn’t want to be alone and wake up alone tomorrow evening. The dreams were getting too vivid.

Lestat laughed softly against David’s throat. _Lately_? Killing things was always Lestat’s favorite past time. It was about time David caught up to him. Shifting back to sit up, Lestat drew David up with him by the back of his head, then put his hands on David’s chest to push the unbuttoned shirt off his shoulders. “Change your clothes and let’s go. The sooner we’re gone, the sooner we come back.”

David muttered about having very little clothing to choose from, but he let Lestat drag him to the closets where he selected a new set of fresh clothing. He was too excited to get to hunt finally, and to do it with Lestat. He would make Lestat stay for the day too, even if it meant telling him why he needed him to.

  
———————————————————

_Text conversation between Fareed and Gregory_

Fareed: Gregory, I’m sorry

Gregory: Where are you, my dear? Is Seth with you?

Fareed: I am safe, I don’t wish to disclose my location. I am alone

Gregory: FAREED! You should not be alone! Where is Seth? I will come to you. It is dangerous for you to be alone. Come back here. No one blames you. :heart::hatching_chick::four_leaf_clover::pancakes:

Fareed: I can handle myself. I do not know where Seth is. I haven’t seen him in ages. I have a job on the evening and night shift. I’m saving lives.

Gregory: what is wrong with this family?!! Are you working with humans? Fareed, you should be on the night shift here! David is sick. We need you to look at him.

Fareed: I need to be doing this. The last sickness was my fault. At least here… anyway, I’m on call. There’s a code blue

Gregory: :rage::star::umbrella::fire:

Fareed: what?

Gregory: I’m pissed! GET BACK HERE!!!!

Fareed: I’ll consider it. But I would prefer to stay here

Gregory: I don’t like this. At least stay in contact with me. I need to know where all my ducklings are at all times.

Fareed: duckling?

Gregory: chicks, ducklings, beloveds. My little family. I like to keep every one of you on the map so I can keep you safe. :heart::hatched_chick:

Fareed: I will check in now and then

Gregory: Thnx

Gregory: At least tell me which continent of the world you are in.

Fareed: New York

Gregory: There are only so many hospitals in NY…

Fareed: You asked me to narrow it down

Gregory: I’ll find you. :heart:

Fareed: I’m safe, stay where you are needed

Gregory: :yum: :alien: :pizza: :man_vampire: :flying_saucer: :clubs:

Fareed: ok… right back at you

Fareed: :confounded:

Gregory: :heart_exclamation: Why don’t you come back here? Mortals don’t need you, vampires do.

Fareed: I brought sickness to vampires. Humans get sick without my help

Gregory: No one blames you here. Everyone misses you.

Fareed: :face_with_raised_eyebrow:

Gregory: :cake:

Fareed: I’ll consider it

Gregory: :cowboy:

  
———————————————————

_Text conversation between Gregory and Armand_

Gregory: Hey… watcha doin’?

Armand: Watching a movie with Daniel. Sorry we didn’t make it to your TED Talk the other day.

Gregory: Yeah, blood fest, huh? :scream: Maybe next time.

Armand: You find my murderous impulses amusing?

Armand: yes, next time. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I want to ride in a limo.

Gregory: No. Understandable, not amusing. I had to clean up the results. Don’t do that again.

Gregory: I have a limo. I will find an event for us to attend.

Armand: It had better be flashy.

Gregory: The car is flashy. Everything I own is flashy. I'm a billionaire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, it's Armand's turn to go on trial!


	22. Another Trial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David's not doing well caged under house arrest, Lestat must sentence Armand for his crime according to the law, but Gregory has other ideas, and Viktor makes an attempt to bond with Louis.

Only a couple nights into his house arrest, David was already exceedingly restless in Lestat’s rooms. If Lestat had come up there to dress tonight, it had been before David awoke from his own slumber, and David had seen and heard from no one all evening. Now, alone and bored, he scrolled through his phone’s contacts.

_Text conversation between David and Daniel_

David: Minx

Daniel: I weigh 130 pounds and haven’t worn matching socks since middle school how do you figure I’m a minx

David: I admit the definition doesn’t fit you. Except perhaps the impudent cunning part.

Daniel: impudent… dude. You a dog in heat or what?

David: Why are you taunting me, Daniel? Leave me alone.

Daniel: YOU TEXTED ME FIRST

\-------------------

_Text conversation between David and Viktor_

David: Hello little brother.

Viktor: hey! How’s jail?

David: Vik, don’t tease your elders. I’m allowed to hunt. Would you like to go with next time?

Viktor: sorry, sir. But yeah, I would love that, I’d be honored

David: My name is David.

\-------------------

_Text conversation between David and Lestat_

  
  
David: What are you wearing?

David: Why aren’t you answering? Did you lose your phone again?

Lestat: Just this old thing  
_[Picture of himself a very colorful Versace jacket]_

David: Lestat, no. Please wake me up to get final consult on your clothing selection from this point forward.

Lestat: No, thank you. Tweed and leather elbow patches have never really done it for me.

David: You know I rarely wear that anymore. I’ve evolved with the times. Versace is so last decade. Burberry, Brioni, Brunello Cucinelli, those are current. I’m going to rearrange your closets.

Lestat: k

David: Please come to the tower and help me with this mess.

David: Lestat, where are you? I’m going to throw out all this Versace.

\-----------------

Lestat threw open the doors of his rooms and glared inside at David. He knew this wasn’t really about his clothes. But whatever it was actually about, it had better be good. “If you’re that bored up here, I could bring you a jigsaw puzzle.”

David tossed a pile of clothes out of the closet into the main rooms. “I have no room for any of my own stuff here. You just waltz off in the evening and leave me here to my own devices! What are you doing all night?”

The mess certainly didn’t look like ‘rearranging’ to Lestat. But more than the abuse to his expensive wardrobe, Lestat was annoyed by the lack of seriousness David was giving to his punishment. Did he think this was a vacation? This was hard on everyone.

“You know damn well what I’m doing all night,” Lestat snipped. He had a government to run. Even after he’d cancelled all future social events, the basic work still took up much of his time and absolutely all of his energy. All he had the mind to do when he was done with it was hunt, nap, or hang around quietly with Louis.

“Don’t you have research you should be doing or something?” Lestat demanded.

David glared. “What the hell would I research in here?” He stomped over the clothing went to the sad bookshelf. He threw the books all over the floor, scattering them everywhere.

“Why am I even locked up in this tower? If I can just go out and hunt Paris any old time, why am I here at all? Armand and I can get at each other in Paris just fine.”

Lestat’s jaw clenched and he crossed to David, snatching his hand to hold it back before he made any further mess. His grip on David’s wrist was like iron. “Tell me what books you want,” he said stiffly, his eyes dark with frustration. “I’ll have them sent up. You should have asked for them already.”

David tried to shake off Lestat’s grip but couldn’t do it. “I don’t want any books! I’ll go to the Paris library for what I want,” he snarled angrily. “I don’t know what I want!!!”

David felt suddenly stupid, like a spoiled juvenile. He looked away from Lestat, to the mess he’d made on the floor, taking several deep breaths to calm down. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “You can go. Go back to wherever you were. I’ll clean this up.”

Lestat didn’t release David’s wrist, though his fingers softened around it. His heart stuttered as he stared at him. Was another one of his fledglings truly going mad? He put his other hand against David’s waist, turning him toward him to see him better. “I want you here,” he said quietly. “I’d rather you here, stuck in these rooms than exiled off away from here. But if you can’t bear it…I’ll let you go.”

David couldn’t seem to make eye-contact. “I don’t want to go away from you.” He stared at the books on the floor. “I get these stupid rages, like some common street thug. It’s ridiculous that I can’t control this.” He glanced at Lestat’s face, leaned in and kissed him quickly. “You have enough to deal with. Don’t fret. I’ll clean it up.”

Lestat finally released him, the expression in his eyes fading to one touched with sadness as he watched David’s every move, feeling his heart pinch. “Try,” he entreated. “Try to control it. Beat this thing. You have a mind unlike any other I have ever known. If anyone can conquer this, David, you can.”

David nodded. “I will. I mean, I have all your passwords in my head, so I can’t be going too crazy. You’ll never get them back.” He smiled half-heartedly. “Really,” he said more seriously, “I have considerable psychic power. This has to be beatable… You know, I think it’s my body’s original soul’s memories and such. They’re bleeding through to me somehow. I’ve been having dreams that I’m him…killing his family.”

The revelation startled Lestat, and he stared at David with concern. “Such a thing is possible? I thought his soul was entirely gone.” How disturbing to think another presence could be in there with David, making him act this way. What if it gradually took him over? Lestat grasped David’s arm again as if that could keep it from happening. “Or perhaps it’s more like muscle memory. Just twitches with the brain itself. We need to have Fareed look at you.”

David gave Lestat a small tired smile. “No, I don’t think it’s anything to do with the soul trying to come back. That is definitely gone. I think it’s something in the brain. Old circuits and cell memory. I want to talk to Gremt about it. And even Amel or Kapetria… Seeing as Fareed has gone absent. But it’s not all from foreign memories… I think that I’m just losing my own mortal coil…you know? Like you said to me once, all the details of mortal life just slip away.”

He hugged Lestat suddenly and laid his head against his shoulder for a long moment before letting him go. “Thank you for not just throwing me out to the wolves, my friend.”

“I’ll call Kapertria right now. I’ll…” Lestat shook his head, overwhelmed. He’d been trying to get ahold of Amel for weeks, with no luck. But he thought he’d have better luck with Kapertria.

His arms came around David and Lestat held on. His eyes swept over David’s face as if he could find the foreign affliction in his mind through his very skin. “You are mine,” he said firmly. He’d never throw David out.

David felt relieved that he had some sort of plan now to work on this issue he was having. He returned Lestat’s embrace again. He slid his hands into Lestat’s soft hair and kissed him lingeringly. “I am yours,” he confirmed. “And please don’t wear this Versace jacket ever again.”

Lestat moved his hands up to take David’s face between them, drawing close like he might kiss him again, but instead he only peered into his eyes. “Try and stop me,” he whispered with a small smirk before letting him go. His jacket was fabulous, and he got compliments on it every time he wore it, which had only been three times so far, as it was new this year.

David shook his head at Lestat. He missed this side of him; vain and jaunty. “How have we ended up here?” he asked suddenly. “You leading the entire population of vampires, I’m losing my mind, and Louis…” David trailed off. Louis must hate him for what he’d become.

The mention of Louis made Lestat flinch, but he tried to hide it by glancing away. David didn’t miss it, but he didn’t know if he should comment. It seemed a sore subject between them these days. Not that David had heard from Louis since before the Armand encounter. He should reach out to him, but he was afraid of Louis’s response, so he didn’t. Like a coward.

David looked over Lestat again and memorized how perfect he was there in the mess of this room even despite the loud jacket. “I’m going to take Viktor on a hunt. Is that permitted? Do you want to chaperone?”

“ _You_ _’re_ going to take _him_?” Lestat arched a skeptical eyebrow. “I trust you with him,” he said, willing it to be true. Although, if they were hunting, he was less worried about David being violent to other vampires. He’d take it out on the mortals. It seemed he only attacked their kind when he was bored at home. “But if the two of you would want my company, I’d like to join you.”

“Yes, I’m taking Viktor, not the other way around. Why would you think otherwise? Do you know something I don’t?” David thought back to Viktor’s visit here. “He’s very naïve, Lestat. I don’t know what kind of sheltered life Seth and Fareed were giving him, but it did him no favors.” He smiled slowly, “Yes, you come too. I want to see that; the two of you.”

“He is growing more worldly every night,” Lestat said defensively. Viktor had been a boy genius and raised among their kind to understand their nuances with an advantage all other fledglings took decades to reach. “You ought to give him more credit. You will see, when you spend time with him.”

Lestat turned to frown at the pile of clothes on the floor. He wondered if Viktor would wear any of them if he asked. He always did what Lestat asked without question, but would this be crossing a line? “I like it when mortals think we’re twins.” The only difference most people noticed were their skin tones, since Viktor was so much paler than Lestat.

“Well, let me correct myself. Naïve in the ways of the affairs of desire. I had to tell him I was flirting with him last night when he showed up here. And I was laying it on thick; I’m not sure how he could miss it. But he only has eyes for Rose, it seems.” David looked Lestat up and down slowly. “You’re shorter, which works more to my preferences.”

Lestat narrowed his eyes at David, knowing he was intentionally poking a sore spot, and wondering why he was in such a mood to be an ass about it. “Most people don’t notice.” Their height difference was only an inch, after all. And as Lestat usually wore boots, he gained back more than that inch, anyway. “Why have you been flirting with my son, David?” He’d been meaning to ask since Viktor brought it up last night. “Do you mean to seduce him?”

David gave Lestat a sly smile. “Well, it’s hard not to flirt with him. He looks just like you, after all. And I wanted to wake him up a bit, to the masculine side of things… Maybe there was an interest in seduction, too. Did I make an impression? He bolted out so suddenly, I couldn’t get a read. Do you want me to stop?”

Lestat considered the question and realized that _yes_ , he did want David to stop. But it didn’t feel right to say so. Viktor could make his own choices, and he trusted that the boy was more than strong enough to resist David if he wanted to. Lestat didn’t like it at all, but it wasn’t about him, despite the fact that David was asking. He avoided that question, focusing only on the previous one. “Well, you didn’t frighten him, if that’s what you thought. But he’s a newlywed, David. So unless you’re only interested in an exercise in frustration, you’d better resign yourself to sticking with me.”

David knew Lestat well enough to read between the lines. It was heartwarming to know Lestat was being such a protective parent to Viktor, and perhaps a little territorial of David as well. “Ah, well then I will resign myself to you,” he said softly and leaned close to kiss Lestat. “It’s easy to do after all.”

Lestat put his hands on David’s arms, and returned the kiss. He had no idea what he’d done to earn so much affection from David lately, but he was quite glad to have it. He certainly needed it. Sliding his hands down to David’s wrists, he lifted them and put them against the sides of his fabulous jacket. “Feel that,” he murmured against David’s mouth. “Isn’t it exquisite to touch?” David clearly had no taste if he hated this jacket.

David slid his hands from the jacket to beneath it, moving them up Lestat’s torso and wrapping him close, embracing their bodies so there was no space between them anymore. He smiled against Lestat’s lips. “You will never convince me to like this jacket. What’s beneath it is far more exquisite.” He kissed Lestat again slowly, then licked and kissed down to his throat, hunger for that blood suddenly swelling within him.

Lestat’s breath caught and his knee pushed between David’s. His hands moved around him, one sliding up David’s back and into his hair. Lestat’s fingers tightened in the silky strands as David’s mouth moved against his throat, as if Lestat might at any moment pull him away to prevent him from biting. His lips brushed David’s jaw as he spoke. “Do you think I’ll let you have this when you’ve made such a mess of this room?” he said as if David were a child that needed to finish his chores before any reward.

David couldn’t help the frustrated sound that escaped him at this suggestion of denial from Lestat, or the redoubling of the lust at the feel of his lips against his own skin. “You’ll let me, or I’ll throw another tantrum, and we both know you don’t like the way I do that lately.”

David considered just taking it. They did this so often in the past. He grabbed Lestat’s hair in a fist and did so, driving fangs sharply into him.

Lestat gasped, his body arching against David’s, and his eyes closing in a long moment of pleasure as he allowed David to take the blood from him. His fingers curled against David’s scalp in rhythm with their heartbeats until his hand tightened in his hair again. With just the right amount of force, he pulled David away from his throat and kissed him again, licking his own blood from the inside of David’s lips.

David growled at being pulled off to soon. He kissed Lestat roughly. “Why did you do that?” he complained. He pulled back from the kissing and stared into Lestat’s eyes, fighting a strong urge to just take more.

Lestat’s eyes were glazed. Half of him wanted to let David get right back to what he’d been doing. The other half wanted to bite David himself and take from him instead. Absolutely no part of him wanted to do what he was about to do.

“Because I have a trial to get to,” he said with a faint touch of accusation. His phone had been buzzing in his pocket with the reminder that it was time to convene in the council chamber to solve the Armand Problem.

He kissed David once more, just as roughly as he had, before pulling back and letting him go. Lestat straightened his jacket and pointed at him. “Stay put. If you behave yourself, I’ll come back.”

David watched him leave, licking the last of the blood from his lips. Maybe Armand would get a good sentence to the dungeons for a long, long while.

For now, David resigned himself to cleaning up the mess he’d made of the books and clothing.  
  


\--------------------

Gregory selected his usual seat in the council chamber near the opposite side of the table from Lestat’s. He hoped this trial would run smoother than the David trial and he wouldn’t need to do any guarding of anyone. He also hoped Lestat would have less of an emotional struggle with it this time.

Armand sent a wave hello Gregory’s way, but he said nothing aloud, feeling far too casual perhaps for this setting. But Armand felt confident. David had instigated this, all of it, and if Armand were to be exiled for defending his fledgling, well what would that matter? It was a worthy cause, in his opinion.

Daniel wasn’t told where to sit, so he took Armand’s left side, and God fucking help anyone who would get it in their head to make him move even a chair down from him.

Lestat had meant to be first to arrive, but his rendezvous with David had made him almost late. He managed to get there just in time, but didn’t look at all apologetic about it.

He scanned the room. Why had Armand brought Daniel? Lestat considered sending Daniel out before they got started. He stared at Daniel a moment longer than the rest but ultimately said nothing about it. With the law books in front of him, Lestat took his seat. Marius’s chair directly across from his was, once more, noticeably empty. Lestat had heard nothing from Marius in more than three nights now.

“Thank you for coming,” Lestat said to everyone who’d had the decency to actually show up.

Gregory raised a brow at Lestat’s entrance and his get-right-down-to-business attitude this time around. He sat forward and steepled his hands together on the table before him. “Yes, thank you for coming this evening, Armand. We all have questions about what happened in the Great Hall with David…and many, many young fledgling witnesses.”

“Fire away, as they say,” Armand said. “I have all night.” He didn’t want or need their thanks for coming to his own trial. It was by the thread of the law and out of respect for Lestat that he was even here at all and not ripping David’s face off in this moment.

Lestat tensed, his eyes narrowing at Armand’s cavalier attitude. Didn’t he care how he hurt his friends? Lestat was suddenly glad Louis hadn’t shown up. He didn’t want to see that nauseated anguish cross Louis’s features again as they decided what would happen to Armand.

“Armand le Russe,” Lestat began, “you have broken the law of this court that prohibits attempted murder. We can ask all the questions we want, but that fact will not change. You must be punished according to the laws written by our prime minister when this court was established.”

“You have to prove him guilty of the accusation before you can punish him,” Daniel spoke firmly. “Armand knows how to kill a vampire in seconds. If he wanted David dead, then David would be dead. If you charge him with anything, let it be assault.”

The laws Marius had crafted were not simple in the slightest, with multiple clauses and caveats leaving area for nuance. Lestat noticed the way Gregory was looking at him, so he rose and walked around the table on the opposite side from Armand in order to hand the binder to Gregory. According to what was written there, Armand _had_ broken this law. There was no way around it. Marius's laws absolutely did not condone revenge.

With a sigh, Lestat fixed Daniel with a look as he returned to his seat. “The council agreed to these laws,” he explained, not sounding exactly like he disagreed with Daniel, but his hands were tied. “If we do not uphold them, there will be nothing to stop vampires the world over from using such loopholes to break them as they please.”

Gregory scanned the legalese in Marius’s familiar scrawl. Romans were so damned wordy. “So the sentence for attempted murder of another vampire is a confinement for at least ten years, a fine of a certain disclosed amount to the one whose life was attempted on; or permanent exile from the land in which the attempted murder took place.” That was all that was on the page, but Gregory continued speaking as if reading further. “Or you can let me take you out to the forest and I’ll torture the hell out of you for a few nights, and we’ll call it done.” Gregory looked at his watch, as he had a meeting with mortal business associates to get to.

Armand looked at Gregory critically as he weighed up his options. Confinement where? Ten years was but a blink to them. And he could pay David, no doubt about it. He certainly didn’t want to leave Daniel or Marius permanently. “Torture…what are we talking?” Armand asked as if he were seriously considering it. “Where would I be confined? How much would I pay David? Do I get to choose myself any of this?”

“No,” Lestat snapped before anyone else could reply. “The council chooses.” True, Armand was part of the council, but he wasn’t allowed to sentence himself. He shot Gregory an angry look for the addition of torture. Lestat had memorized the page and knew it was _not_ part of the law, but he didn’t want to make the council look like less than a united front, so he reluctantly held his tongue.

“Armand was defending my honor.” Daniel shot to his feet, slamming his hands hard into the table; an older vampire might have cracked it. “He was protecting his only child, and you know Armand as well as anyone. He’s violent, he was made at fucking 17. How do you know he ever even developed a reasonable sense of impulse control? Shit, I’m the reason he’s here. Try me in his place!”

Gregory sighed. He’d caught the angry look from Lestat and glanced away. He couldn’t make this easier for any of them. “Lestat, why don’t you just place Armand under house arrest, as you did David? Put Marius or some other strong one on him at all times. Have him give a public statement to all the court about the crime he committed and why it was wrong to do so. Have him make a large payment to the Court for his transgressions.”

Gregory turned to face Armand again. “You know it was wrong, right, Armand? It is wrong to take personal revenge on another for their misdeeds. Your own maker should have instilled that in you, considering who he is.” Gregory glared at Armand seriously.

“Daniel please, it’s alright.” Armand said tenderly, his first real flicker of emotion as he placed a hand upon Daniel’s and looked to him for a moment before turning to Gregory. “Marius is Prime Minister; he cannot be taken from Lestat so definitely. But I will take whatever punishment is allotted to me.”

Gregory stared at Armand. “You didn’t answer the last question. Do you know what you did was wrong?”

Armand looked hard at Gregory. He understood these laws, though did not necessarily agree with them. And he would never feel regret for what he did, that was for damned sure. “I know that by the definition of our laws, it was wrong. By moral standards, it was wrong. But I do not feel wrong for doing it.”

Lestat had been ready to yell at Daniel that defending someone’s honor was not a legal justification for attempted murder—but since Armand chastised him himself, Lestat refrained. “Because Armand was not acting in self-defense or to save someone else in the moment, he is not subject to any exemptions from the crime of attempted murder. He made a premeditated attack on David Talbot’s life. There is no one in our tribe who is too violent and underdeveloped to adhere to our laws. We’ve had these laws for more than five years now, and we cannot change them simply because it is our friend who is subject to them this time.”

He thought over the suggestion Gregory had made a minute ago, but then shook his head. It felt as if his brain was about to split open from having to deal with this. “House arrest is not an option. The council must decide from the options of punishment you stated before. The ones in the book.” Even though Armand wasn’t allowed to choose his own punishment, Lestat desperately wished he knew what Armand preferred.

Daniel shook his head, his heart thundering in his chest. Ten years imprisonment? Would he be allowed to see Armand, his maker? Ten years seemed so long to Daniel still. This was cruel and unfair. Well…if it would exile, then he’d go with Armand…

“So there are the options,” Gregory said. “Ten years confined in the dungeons and a fine to David, or exiled from the Court perminently.” Gregory didn’t mention the torture again, as Lestat seemed dead against it still. “I’m going to recommend the imprisonment and the fine. What say you, Lestat?”

Armand spoke before their prince could answer. “If I had a preference, it would be the torture, but that option seems to have been revoked.” Armand’s voice carried the utmost surety and seriousness, looking Lestat in the eyes. “But I do not decide.”

“It hasn’t been revoked,” Lestat said in a low voice, his lips barely moving and his eyes still across the table on Gregory. He could not bear the thought of Armand locked in the dungeons for ten years. Better he be free to live his life out in the world. Lestat’s heart ached at the thought of losing him, but exile seemed the only right option to choose. Even if it was an odd punishment for an attempted murderer. What if the murderer didn’t even want to be at court in the first place? He’d have to ask Marius about the rationale of this law. He glanced to the other members of the council in the room, letting them say their thoughts before he’d give his own.

Cyril, though not technically a member of this council, stood stoically by the door and spoke with a low, steady voice. “It is true that we need to keep a consistency in our laws; Armand is not exempt. However, I feel the court would be worse off without our guard dog. If he’s willing to go through the physical ordeal of torture in order to avoid imprisonment or exile, then let him. “

Gregory held Lestat’s eye contact. Several others on the council spoke their opinions, some for the torture and others for the exile. Gregory started processing through the potential torture options for Armand. He was little and he was only 500 or so years old. With Gregory’s thousand years of experience in his former life as the Queen’s captain of the guard, it wouldn’t be difficult for him to break Armand. “If you want, I can bring Santh in on the torture punishment,” he offered. “And it will be…smoother.”

Armand nodded, drawing back slightly and looking at the table’s surface. He drummed his delicate fingers upon the wood and allowed torture to register in his head as a viable option, allowed himself to get accustomed to the idea, to be ready for it.

Lestat felt ready to tear his hair out. This wasn’t a system of voting! It was supposed to be an agreed-upon decision. It seemed many of the council members supported the option of torture, especially after Armand voiced his preference for it. Lestat now desperately wished Marius and Louis were here, after all.

Lestat was exceedingly uncomfortable with the court doing anything to gain a reputation for brutality and ancient punishments. But damn it, this was _Armand_ … And Cyril was right. How could Lestat live without him? Even for only ten years. The court was still so new, still forming. Those ten years would be crucial!

And so, Lestat gave in, his gaze falling to the remaining law books in front of him, even though he barely saw them. “Make it happen,” he replied to Gregory, only giving those words and a half nod to signify the final decision. His hands curled tightly on his lap under the edge of the table.

Gregory nodded and sent a quick text to Santh. “We can go now, Armand, or I can let you say goodbye to Daniel. I or Santh will come collect you before the end of night.”

Armand sent an appreciative glance Lestat’s way, understanding how hard this had been for him. Then he looked at Daniel. “At the end of the night.” He spoke with the utmost authority, knowing that Daniel would be heartbroken for him to go without spending time with him first.

Daniel could barely hear what was going on around him, the sentence passed down. How could they do this to one of their own? To Armand, to his Armand? And what was Daniel supposed to say to him within a few hours to make up for the fact that this was all his fault?

Lestat’s hands clenched so tightly, his nails threatened to break the skin. He managed to stop it in time, knowing the others would smell the blood if he did. He made himself lift his eyes to look around the table again. If the council had other business to discuss, he didn’t care. He needed to get out of here. “This council is dismissed,” he said stiffly. Then he arranged the books into a stack on the table as everyone began to leave the room.

Gregory stood and walked to Lestat, leaning down and whispering to him, “This is the easiest way, Lestat. I promise you, this is going to be over before he knows it, and he’ll be back here again.”

Lestat remained still, neither agreeing or arguing. Just let it happen. Gregory squeezed Lestat’s shoulder gently and left the council room to fetch Santh.

Armand stood, sending telepathic thanks to Lestat and taking Daniel by the arm gently. “Come on, let’s away. We only have a few hours,” he said quietly to his fledgling.

All Daniel wanted to do then was scoop Armand into his arms and carry him away. Damn it, would Marius want to see Armand, too? Should he? Perhaps this was too painful for Marius, to see his husband sentenced to this. “My room or yours, Boss?” he asked as they left.

He was angry with Armand for putting them all in this situation. He was old enough to show restraint and know better than to seek something so crass as revenge. He was angry with David for starting shit in the first place. He was angry with himself for not paying more attention to David before all this. If he’d given David more of himself, could this have been prevented?

Lestat felt stretched to his limit, ready to snap, and he lingered alone in the council chamber doing absolutely nothing for a very long time.  
  


  
\------------------  
  


_Text conversation between Viktor and David_

Viktor to David: dude everyone’s talking about you

David to Viktor: It might be my criminally insane status right now. What are they saying?

Viktor to David: mostly that, yeah. Some say it’s about time someone let that one have it. Two fledgling’s are passing around the bright idea to start a vampire gossip blog with you as the first post…sounds sketchy

David to Viktor: Let that “one” have it? Who is the one? Let them gossip, it keeps them occupied.

Viktor to David: I thought you didn’t like the A word, so I didn’t say it

David to Viktor: I’m making sure they were meaning the A word and not me.

David to Viktor: I’m arranging a hunting party with you and your father… guess which one. When do you want to go?

Viktor to David: I’m gonna go out on a limb and say blond dad

David to Viktor: You have two blond fathers. Pick one.

Viktor to David: Marius is my maker, not my father!

David to Viktor: Yet I’m sure he thinks of you as one of his children.

Viktor to David: …I have mixed feelings on that

David to Viktor: I will offer brotherly advice if you want to share your mixed feelings.

Viktor to David: oh no, sir. Marius just cuts an imposing figure is all. And his family is…unique.

David to Viktor: I believe this is the third time I’ve asked you to call me David.

He only has a few unique family members. Pandora is kind, as is Bianca. Really guard yourself around the A word though.

How is everything else this evening?

To David: it’s…fine. everyone’s kind of somber right now

To Viktor: I’ve noticed that. I have not heard a word from anyone in hours. Have you seen Lestat?

To David: father is…needing to be alone a bit, I think.

\------------------  
  


_Text conversation between David and Lestat_

David to Lestat: Are you okay?

Lestat to David: Yes.

David to Lestat: Are you lying?

\------------------  
  


As he wandered through the chateau’s public library, Viktor assumed that with his better vampiric reflexes and peripheral vision, he’d be able to handle walking and texting at the same time. Crashing right into Louis, though, seemed to prove that theory false.

Louis dropped the book in his hand. “Pardon me,” he said, mostly to prompt the young man to have some manners. “You may have better luck if you looked ahead of you while walking instead of at your phone.”

Viktor looked up at his…uh…at his father’s husband…his step dad? He offered an apologetic grin. “Louis! I’m sorry!” he said brightly, hurrying to pick up the book as well as his phone. In his confusion and nervousness he handed the phone to Louis rather than the book.

Louis smiled back gently. “Don’t be sorry, just be more careful,” he said as he looked at the object that was placed in his hand. “And this is not a book,” he added. “Unless you’re asking me to peruse your messages”

Viktor stared ahead for a moment, then followed Louis’s gaze down to his hand and burst into a tired laugh. “Sorry, yeah, just chatting to David! Got a little distracted. I’m sorry, Louis…I know you’re not hurt, but it still seems polite to ask if you’re ok.”

Louis looked at Viktor. It was astonishing how much the boy looked like his husband. It was very confusing. “Ah…well, David is an interesting person to chat with. I don’t blame you.” He offered Viktor his phone back and a small smile. “No harm done. It is nice to see you back home.”

Viktor gave Louis his most charming smile, the one everyone said mimicked his father’s so well, which he was so proud of. “He is, and since we’re brothers of a sort, I’m enjoying hanging out with him… He’s very uh…friendly, though.”

The smile did in fact look like Lestat’s, and in response, Louis found himself blushing. He couldn’t help it. He nervously cleared his throat. “Yes, David does make his intentions clear. It is…admirable.”

Viktor nodded, noting the blush in Louis’s cheeks; it made his green eyes look even more dazzling. Louis was as just…such a beautiful man. “We’re thinking of going for a hunt together, we three…would you be willing to come too, maybe?”

The proposition of a hunt didn’t help to drive away the blush. Louis didn’t usually let people watch him hunt. “We? You and David?” he inquired, though he did know the answer. “I’ll consider it, though I don’t need to hunt again tonight.”

“And father, if we can find him!” Viktor added cheerily. Tucking his phone into his pocket, he took both of Louis hands in his. “I really want to spend more time with you two… You’re my family. My new family!”

“What do you mean if you can find him?” Louis inquired, hoping Lestat hadn’t run off again.”

“Oh…well I mean, Father has just been a little…erratic? Lately?” he said cautiously, unsure suddenly if that was the right word. “Well…honestly, maybe not…I guess I haven’t been around him enough to know when he’s erratic. But he seems so…distant.”

“He has been off lately,” Louis said, feeling guilty. “Maybe we should invite him in person. I find it more sincere than text communication.”

“Oh! We could go find him maybe!” Viktor said, suddenly taken with the idea. “I know David is kinda in trouble and everyone’s upset with Armand and all, but if Father is with us, hunting with David would be ok, right?” He really wanted this. He rarely got to be with both his father and Louis, and seeing them together warmed something in Viktor. They were his parents as much as Fareed and Seth and Flannery.

“I’ve heard about all the trouble, and it is a true shame to have all this conflict in our walls,” Louis replied, hiding his worry well. “Yes, having Lestat around is never a bad thing”, he agreed, though in his experience, having Lestat around led to consequences of some sort.

Viktor beamed, stepping closer. Louis never scared him the way some ancients could, even his own maker. But Louis was ice, he was mist and frost and more roughly-cut than most ever wanted to say, and sometimes Viktor feared that being too close would cut him as surely as shattered glass. Still, Louis was family, by love and by blood, so far as Viktor was concerned. “Then it’s settled, the four of us!” Viktor said, a boyish gleam to his eyes at such a simple pleasures.

But first they needed to find Lestat. Louis took out his phone to send him a text.

Louis to Lestat: I miss you

Louis to Lestat: Sorry autocorrect…I meant where are you?

Lestat to Louis: Love you

Lestat to Louis: Sorry autocorrect

Lestat to Louis: Adore you

Lestat to Louis: Council chamber. But coming down now

Louis to Lestat: You’re a charmer. Bless your heart

Louis to Lestat: I’m with Viktor in the library

By the time Lestat made it to the library, some of the dull, haunted look had faded from his eyes, and he even managed to smile when he saw Louis and Viktor together. It was a rather arresting sight. Lestat felt like he was looking through a window to the past, like he was being led on a spiritual journey by a ghost or an angel delivering life lessons. Viktor looked so much like his younger self, when his skin was always so pale and his hair so much yellower, it was like seeing himself and Louis together as they’d once been so long ago. Except now he was on the outside looking in, no longer part of it. Only their clothes gave away the truth.

It made Lestat’s heart ache, but he broke through the bubble and went to join them by the shelves. Embracing Viktor first, he gave him a lingering kiss to his temple. “Louis begged me to come,” he said to explain his sudden appearance.

Louis was relieved to see Lestat in the flesh. Court life made it easy to be scarce, though Louis never meant any offense. “I didn’t beg,” he corrected, his cheeks pink again.

Viktor, beaming at his father, returned the embrace and the kisses double, two for each cheek, quietly noting that his father must be wearing a heeled boot as he was perhaps a half inch taller than Viktor at the moment. “Louis and I literally ran into each other—that is, I ran into Louis—and we’re thinking of a hunt, us and David! David has already invited me on one!”

“Yyes, a hunt is probably needed,” Louis coaxed. “It may be best for all our sake.”

“Absolutely needed,” Lestat agreed. After having to sentence Armand to brutal torture tonight, Lestat needed anything to get his mind off of the despair that followed. Releasing Viktor, he turned to Louis, sliding an arm around his waist. “You’ll really come out with us?” He knew David was desperate to see Louis too, but he didn’t share that, feeling selfish at the moment.

“I will oblige,” Louis said, leaning into the embrace. “Though I am not certain if I’ll participate. You know how I feel about being watched.”

Lestat did know. And he wasn’t certain he wanted David and Viktor watching Louis this time, anyway. He gave him a little reassuring squeeze to let him know he didn’t expect him to do anything he didn’t want to.

Lestat’s eyes swept appreciatively over Viktor and he smiled again, a little more of his heartache leaving him the longer he was in their presence. “Isn’t my son handsome, Louis?”

Viktor turned as pink as a hungry vampire could, jabbing his elbow into Lestat’s ribs. “That’s your own vanity showing, Father!” he teased, but he laughed delightedly all the same.

Louis looked between them. “Neither of you are wrong,” he said, remaining as neutral as possible so as to avoid giving away his true thoughts.

Lestat was more than adept at reading Louis’s lack of responses to know that he’d gotten the reaction he wanted, and the gratification lit up his eyes. He kissed the side of Louis’s face tenderly before reluctantly releasing him.

“You must let me dress you sometime,” he said to Viktor. It was true the boy looked good in anything he wore, but his fashion sense seemed to be inspired by Gap catalogs and Lestat lamented it every time he saw him. “Not tonight, but when we go out next, perhaps.”

Viktor beamed for a half moment before realizing he’d just been insulted. He looked down at his clothes then back up to his father. “I’m neat and clean aren’t I?” he challenged. “I don’t need to be in Gucci for that.”

Lestat’s eyes widened slightly. What did _need_ have to do with any of it? How did this boy’s brain even work?

Louis looked between them. “Don’t feel bad, Viktor. He thinks I dress terribly also,” he replied, trying to lighten the situation. “You’re very handsome, and you don’t need to change a thing.”

“You haven’t dressed terribly in ages, Louis,” Lestat said. And it was true simply because Lestat had supplied Louis’s whole wardrobe ever since he’d moved into the castle. Lestat took one more moment to look between the two of them admiringly. “Shall I fetch David from his tower prison?”

Louis turned his attention back to his husband. “Yes, I would appreciate that very much, Lestat.”

He squeezed Louis’s hand and gave him one more kiss before turning to leave the library. “Meet us in the courtyard.”

Viktor continued to peer down at his clothes as he and Louis made their way outside, wondering if maybe he should change…? Would a suit be better? Father might like that more, but Viktor didn’t care for suits…besides, he’d hunt just fine in what he had on.

“Do not dwell on Lestat’s comments,” Louis soothed. “He is pleased with you, and this is how he shows his love.” He placed a hand on Viktor’s shoulder. “Come now, let us go to the courtyard.”  
  



	23. Torture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is time for Armand to face his sentence. After he's taken off for torture by the ancients, Daniel seeks comfort in Marius.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for some bloody knife action in this chapter for Armand's torture scene...which is violent, yes, but also...sexy?  
> The actual graphic violence starts in the last third of the chapter, after a line break. So if you don't want to read it, you can still read the first parts of the chapter up until the end of the scene where Marius leaves.

Armand had chosen to spend his last hours before his torture sentence in Daniel’s room. He wanted Daniel to be as comfortable as possible. Pensively, he shut the door behind them and went into the bedroom to sit on the bed. He was beginning to feel the impact of this somewhat, the guilt of it all. But only for Lestat, for the hurt he’d caused him. For Daniel, for his torment. Not at all for David.

But then, they did call Armand a sociopath. Little psychopath, sometimes. Demon, devil, bastard, he’d had them all, and Armand delighted in them. For people to learn that he was not just a supposed vision of soft curls and a pretty voice and an angel’s face. It was the ultimate victory for him. And when he would come out of this torture stronger than before, well perhaps David Talbot would think again before attacking his fledgling.

Daniel scooped Armand into his arms, setting him around his waist and burying his face into Armand’s neck, smelling his hair and trying to stem the burning behind his eyes. “Armand…babe, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry this happened.”

“Daniel, if you don’t stop blaming yourself, I’ll ask Gregory to pull you in with me,” Armand shot firmly, very much at the end of his tether. He didn’t mean it, of course. He would never put Daniel in that situation. But the anger was there. “My crime is my own, and I will face the punishment, alright? They will not kill me, and I will be back in your arms before the week is out.”

Daniel hated this. If he hadn’t fought back, if he hadn’t been argumentative, if he’d just avoided David, none of this would happen. All he’d done in his short immortal life was make everything difficult for his damn family.

“Daniel! What did I say?” Armand reiterated, knowing that Daniel’s silence made way for mental flagellation. He softened his resolve slightly, and combed his fingers through Daniel’s hair, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Why don’t you sit us down, hmm? It can’t be great for you to lug me around like this.”

“You’re nothing to hold, babe. I have your blood, you made me strong, Marius raised me string, you know that,” Daniel said with a tenderness he rarely let himself give to Armand. Usually even their loving moments were teasing and taunting. But he eased Armand down onto the low window bench, and followed immediately, pulling his lover half onto his lap.

Armand wrapped his arms around Daniel’s neck and looked out of the window. He wanted to be with Daniel, truly, but he felt a distance as he mentally prepared himself, a disconnect. He could not bring himself to worry for this torture, though he knew it would be something terrible.

Daniel held him close, coiling Armand’s hair around his fingers. “When…when it’s over and you’re back, let’s go somewhere together. Just us, ok? I’ll take you anywhere you want.”

Armand nodded, turning his far away eyes to Daniel again.

“I’ll take you. We both need to go somewhere,” he promised, eyes traveling to Daniel’s collar. There was too much pain in those violet eyes. “Where shall we go?”

“Where are you happiest in the world? We’ll go there. We’ll make a trip of it, get out of the castle. Paris? Venice? New Orleans?”

“I am happy, Daniel,” he said with another small sigh, tired of this fretting. He shifted slightly in his lap, eyes traveling back to the window and the sky beyond. It was a lovely July night, at least. He would have the stars when they went to the forest. “We’ll go somewhere hot. With white sands. Hawaii, perhaps, somewhere new.”

“Hawaii sounds perfect. I wanna go to the beach. Marius took me a lot, in Rio? I always thought you’d like it.” Daniel faltered a moment, hesitating. “When I was lucid at least, you were always on my mind.”

“Daniel, I don’t need this. I promise you, I don’t need tending to. I don’t need these sweet words from you,” Armand murmured, looking into Daniel’s eyes for the first time with tenderness. “Just stop worrying, please. That’s what hurts here more than anything, is your worrying.”

Daniel nodded, continuing to play with Armand’s hair, but it was difficult to do as he asked. What was he supposed to do but worry? Shit, how was he supposed to spend these last moments with him? Should they make out? Read together? What was pre-torture etiquette?

“Perhaps I should go now,” Armand said quietly after a while. Daniel needed someone with warmth and love and kindness now, and Armand could not provide that whilst preparing himself for torture. “Do you want me to stay for a while, or should we get it over with?

“Boss, no…I mean, if you need time to be alone before or something, then ok, but…I want to be with you. I…I’m gonna miss you. I know it’s only a few nights…hey, Boss?”

Armand looked at him again, something in the tone of Daniel’s voice awakening him from this faraway dream. “Yes, Danny?” he asked quietly, locking eyes with him.

“…Thank you,” he murmured, looking to the side. “For…for defending me. For trying to protect me. I still don’t…feel like you should have had to, but it’s nice. Not everyone gets to see the part of you I see.”

“You’re my child, Danny, I chose you.” Armand spoke with absolute warmth now. “I’ve been an abysmal maker to you thus far. Well, no more. You needn’t thank me for doing my job.”

Daniel nodded. He wanted to tell Armans he was wrong and he’d been a fine maker, but they both knew that would be the biggest load of shit. Armand couldn’t even be around him until he wasn’t sick anymore, but Daniel didn’t have time to waste eternity being upset on that. So he just drew Armand close again, kissing his hair.

Armand’s phone went off, and he took it out to look at the text on the screen.

Gregory to Armand: Hey. Santh is coming your way.

“Will they allow you to hunt before?” Daniel asked.

Armand shook his head, peering at the text. “No. They seem pretty enamored with the idea of instigating this thing as soon as possible.” He typed out a reply to Gregory.

Armand to Gregory: Santh can wait. I am still with my Daniel.

Gregory to Armand: I don’t think Santh waits for anyone. Good luck with that.

Armand to Gregory: Santh will have to learn to wait. I told you both a few hours, at least.

Meanwhile, Santh was a little annoyed with Gregory for placing him on this job. He really was trying to get out of the torture business. Create a new, friendly image for himself. He wasn’t Gundesanth anymore. But once a thug always a thug, apparently.

The two ancients had talked quickly about it first, made a rough plan for what they would do. Armand was a little masochist, as Santh understood it, so that threw in a whole other element to work around. But they knew how to do deal with such things. He’d take Armand up to a cave they’d found in the deep forests outside the castle, and do a bit alone with him first, then Neb—Greg, would join after his ridiculous business meeting.

Santh stood outside Daniel Malloy’s door, having tracked Armand’s presence to it. The two were in there acting like this was the last walk to the guillotine. Santh shook his head with an amused laugh. The young ones in these times were so soft. All poetry and discussing feelings. This was going to be far too simple. Greg should have just done this alone… But maybe they could have some fun with it. It had been some time since he and Nebamun bonded over some good torture.

Santh slammed a fist on the door loudly and waited a pause, scanning the reactions inside. Amused, he shook his head again. “Come out, or I’ll come in, and it won’t be pretty!”

Armand rolled his eyes, fully incensed at the intrusion.

“I told Gregory that you can wait. Until the end of the night, that was our agreement,” he spat toward the door, pressing a quick kiss to Daniel’s lips. He knew he would probably lose this fight. “Fuck off for another hour or so!”

Santh stood in the hall with his mouth open. Greg had warned him Armand would be this way, but Santh hadn’t really believed he would dare.

Santh slammed the door open easily, grabbed the devious little urchin by his hair and yanked him up. He wrapped a hand around Armand’s throat and squeezed dangerously, dragging him out of the room, down the hallway to the nearest window. Santh launched them both through it and out into the skies.

Armand scarce had time to gasp. He wasn’t particularly thrilled with the idea of being carried through the skies with only a hand around his throat to support him, but Santh was exceedingly old, he could handle it. There was no sense in fighting this, furious as he was about being dragged away from Daniel prematurely. It was simpler just to get on with it.

Back in the room, Daniel could barely comprehend what had just happened; he heard the shouting, he had the vampiric sight to follow their movements, but it just seemed as though suddenly Armand was gone, fading quicker than a dream on waking, and leaving him bitterly alone.

He didn’t know how long he sat there. Hours, perhaps, and yet the dawn still seemed so far off. Each tick of the clock felt like a torturous blow Armand must be enduring out there.

Eventually, a noise from his phone made Daniel come back to the present, and he looked down at the text message on the screen.

\-------------------

_Text conversation between David and Daniel_

David: Hello Daniel. How is your evening?

Daniel: does your maker know you’re texting me?

David: My maker loses his phone on a regular basis. Do you really think he checks on who I text with mine? Or that he cares?

Daniel: well mine is out in the woods being skinned alive thanks to you, so leave me alone

David: Sounds painful.

Daniel: no shit kinda like when you cracked my skull

David: I am sorry for that. How can I make it up to you?

Daniel: I dunno ask Armand how the men who raped him in Constantinople could make it up to him, you’ll probably get the same answer

David: Armand cracked my skull in as well, if that’s any consolation.

Daniel: and you raped him too. They gonna do anything to you over this, or does being the prince’s kid have perks? I wouldn’t strike Lestat as being so biased.

David: Well, there is a bit of difference between blood play in the library and attempted murder.

Daniel: Armand holding me down and biting my thighs for lube is blood play. You fucking raped us

David: I’m going to end this here before I decide to leave this tower and come down and do it again to you. Good night.

\-------------------

_Text conversation between Daniel and Marius_

Daniel: can I spend the day with you?

Marius: You may. I am crushing rocks to mix into paints.

Daniel: you’re……can’t you just buy paints? Ok, Hulk

Marius: It’s not the same. It’s a texture and color that cannot be replicated by synthetics.

Daniel: ok…can I come sit with you while you paint?

Marius: Of course you can. I am in my room.

\---------------

Gregory knelt down beside Armand on the cave floor where he and Santh had been torturing him for hours. Gregory tilted his head, listening for his heartbeat. Yes, still there, though a bit irregular and tired.

He touched Armand’s wet hair with a gentle hand. “Hey? You still in there, little warrior,” he whispered, breaking his distant torturer persona for just this brief moment of rest.

Armand blinked away his tears—not of sadness, understand, but strain—and turned to look up at Gregory. He nodded as he took this minute to gain his composure, just a little put out by this sudden tenderness. “I am present,” he murmured shakily. By some miracle.

Gregory watched Armand’s limp form for a long minute, feeling a little bad about that last session with him and Santh trading off. Perhaps they had taken it a little too far.

“I’m sorry there’s no safe words here,” Gregory said, then kind of laughed, because he couldn’t actually break the torturer persona completely and keep his sanity intact here.

He looked away and saw Santh outside the cave opening, staring up at the rain that was starting to fall. “What are you thinking about,” he asked Armand, just to try and get a measure on his current mental state.

“Daniel, Marius…a warm bath,” Armand said quietly, his own eyes glassy as he looked at the opening of the cave, to the world beyond, almost within reach. Armand wouldn’t talk about how his head pounded, how his limbs ached. How he’d underestimated the two of them. How he’d been pushed to and past limits he’d never seen before, and every affront to his body would be remembered for centuries. Not when they had three more nights to go.

Gregory listened to the broken voice as Armand said pretty much what he expected. He’d caught glimpses of both Daniel and Marius in that last session, as Armand’s ability to shield was lessening.

“So we’re going to let you rest for a bit,” Gregory said.  
“Don’t take that as a sign we feel anything like guilt over what we’re doing. We just need you a little stronger for the next round.” He petted Armand’s auburn curls, gently again. “I’ll be nice and let you chose. Me or Santh next time around?…And don’t assume I’ll be nicer than him just because I like you more.”

“You like me?” Armand asked quietly, his voice distantly coy and amorous despite it all. His eyes conveyed none of it, however, and he lay all but a shell of himself. Though the breeze upon his naked chest was a welcome balm.

Gregory smiled at the weakly spoken words and Armand’s ability to still hold onto his seductive instincts even now. He leaned down and kissed Armand’s forehead then whispered against his ear. “I like that you don’t give in very easily.”

Armand smiled, just a very faint curl of his lip, and shivered into the kiss. He turned his head to look up at Gregory for a long moment. “Santh. I’ll have Santh,” he murmured.

Outside the cave opening, Santh laughed. “That’s because I’m better looking, right Armand,” he yelled in.

“Perhaps,” Armand returned, that ghost of a smile remaining upon his lips as his eyes travelled over Santh’s strong form. He’d had Armand’s interest since he’d hurled him out of the window, admittedly.

Gregory sat back. “Well that stings a bit, Armand.” He sent an exasperated look toward Santh than looked back to Armand. “That’s fine. I’ll take it out on you next time.”

Armand looked back to Gregory apologetically, his eyes conveying what his words did not. That he liked Gregory. That he wanted to remain friends with him after this. “Do your worst.”

Gregory glanced over at Santh who’d of course noticed Armand’s appraisal and smirked at Gregory. “They aren’t supposed to enjoy it,” he yelled over to Santh.

“I won’t let him enjoy it,” Santh replied. He entered the cave and yanked Armand up by an arm. “Come on, let’s go play with some fire. That’s not enjoyable at all.”

Armand sighed and submitted with immediate effect. There was no part of this that he had enjoyed or would enjoy. This was not playtime in the bedroom, and Armand had understood that from the get go. He could not blame them for doing this to him.

\---------------------------

Daniel knew he didn’t need to knock on Marius’s door, being given an invitation already, and he eased into his maker’s maker’s apartment quickly, a backpack over his shoulder with his laptop, charger, and a sketchbook of his own if the mood struck him. He really didn’t want to be alone anymore tonight. Not with David as he was, and Armand…out there.

“Hey, Marius,” he whispered.

Marius was scraping some crushed minerals into his containers. “Daniel, come here,” he said, sensing that this was what the young one wanted. “I will not ask you to talk, but it may be freeing for you to get your woes off your chest.”

Daniel nodded, coming closer to where Marius stood at his table, and pulled an armchair up nearby. “…I can’t stop thinking of Armand.”  
  
Neither could Marius. He was furious with Armand for committing a crime that would part them from each other... And so soon after they had made promises to each other. He knew the council had met earlier tonight, but Marius could not bear to be watch. The pain would have been too great. He did not have to look up his own laws to know Armand would be imprisoned or exiled. He assumed they would choose exile. Marius also assumed Daniel would be going with him. Daniel always chose Armand. 

Marius set down the container and turned his full attention to Daniel. “I see.” It was a non-committal statement, but his tone coaxed Daniel to continue speaking on the topic. “Does that bother you?”

Daniel began to dig through his backpack, holding the sketchbook and lost in thought. He didn’t do much art, not like Marius did, but he enjoyed the feel of oil pastels, quick vivid landscapes, almost abstract. It kept his hands busy and his mind still. “He’s being ripped apart in the forest, Mars,” Daniel said through grit teeth.  
  
"Ripped apart?" Marius stared at him.  
  
"Maybe! I don't know how they'll torture him. It could be anything."  
  
Torture? What was this? Armand's punishment was supposed to be imprisonment or exile. What had the council _done_?  
  
Daniel clenched his sketchbook. “For a crime he isn’t guilty of.”

“Not guilty?” Marius spoke carefully, trying not to let his own feelings show. “Punishments are not given to the innocent.” Armand broke the law, and Armand knew what he was doing when he broke it. He should be exiled, and the fact that Armand had done this thing that would make Marius lose him was unforgivable.

“…Are you shitting me?” Daniel asked, peering at Marius skeptically over his glasses. “Innocent people are jailed all the time, even executed!”

“That is human society. Our society is better than that. We rely on democracy. We haven’t the corruption they do,” Marius countered, his tone carrying a warning behind it. And there was no question Armand was guilty. Marius had known it from the first night, and had been unable to so much as look at Armand since then.

“What Armand did doesn’t seem like anything against the nature of a blood drinker. He was protecting his fledgling, something I would have thought you’d learned about by now.”

“Is that how you really feel?” Marius’s warning tone increased. “That I do not protect my fledglings?”

“Well, you didn’t show up to his hearing tonight,” Daniel spat back, feeling himself spiraling into a nasty mood. He needed an outlet. He was so worked up from Armand being taken and frightened of David and shamed of that fear. And Marius was the only one around that Daniel even knew well enough to scream at. “You could have defended him before the council, but you didn’t. And if you really want to dig up old dirt there’s always—” He cut himself off, but it was too late. The thought of the Children of Satan in Paris hung in his mind, and Marius was not closed to his thoughts as Armand was.

“I do not owe you an explanation. And right now, you are not privy to that information.” Marius spoke steadily, but Daniel would not see the storm stirring beneath. _Torture!_ “But go on. Always what? What would you like to raise to make yourself feel better?”

“Oh I dunno, maybe your awareness of what’s going on in your own husband’s life?” snapped Daniel, his sketchbook now forgotten as he turned and stood to his full height, as though his spindly form was anything against a child of the millennia. “I went to Armand down in that dungeon to comfort him, to be with him! And what was Marius the Wise One doing then? Reading Homer and congratulating yourself on your practical and calm mood and wondering where your kid got this attitude from?”

Marius listened, continuing to allow Daniel to vent. There was a lot he could say and do, but he chose not to. “Do you feel better now?” he inquired, using this phrase to mask the pain he felt.

Daniel gaped at the patriarch of his bloodline, standing as cold and uncaring as the statute he resembled. With a swing of his leg, Daniel kicked the wooden stool holding Marius’s paints, sending it splintering. “Fucking no, you great Roman git!” he howled. “Your lover, the child you raised from the brothels, is being burnt or stabbed or cut apart—or whatever they’re doing to him out there—because someone raped his fledgling! And you…you didn’t even come to see me after what David did to me!”

Marius lifted a hand and slapped Daniel hard enough to make a point. “You have had your word,” he stated. “But there is a line, and you have crossed it.” His voice shook, his anger and sadness breaking through. “Clean up that mess.”

Daniel reeled from the blow, knocked over the arm of the low couch. Marius had never struck him, not in all the years he’d lived with him, but then… “…Ah. I’m not your submissive and obedient child anymore, huh? How _rational_ of you.” Daniel glared down at the spilled paints and oils. “Clean it up yourself. I’m tired of fixing the things you leave broken and abandoned.”

“This one was your fault. I should not have to ask twice.” Marius paused. “I am going to find Lestat. I expect this to be cleaned upon my return.”

“You didn’t ask the first time, you immortal idiot!” Daniel shouted after him as Marius left the room.

 _Fuck_ that. Daniel ground the paints in to the carpet with his shoe. Then picking up a tube of wickedly expensive cadmium red, Daniel took a brush with him outside Marius’s study door and wrote, _Marius de Romanus is a lying cockwaffle_ in as large letters as the paint would allow.

Marius would probably whip him for this, but that was a future Daniel problem. It was too close to dawn now for David to find him, so Daniel went down to spent the day in the crypts alone.

\--------------

Gregory knelt and touched Armand’s face with the cold tip of a Damascus steel blade, lightly grazing it down his cheek to his throat. “Armand…” he whispered ominously against his ear. “Wakey-wakey… My turn.” Gregory couldn’t help the small laugh from deep within his throat. He’d been at this two nights now, and he was starting to feel less and less like Gregory. Nebamun, the evil Queen’s captain, had risen again within him.

Armand swallowed, wincing as his throat’s movements sent the blade into his skin already. Every inch of his body was alight with pain, and overly sensitive, and he was just about ready to throw in the towel. Not that it would make the blindest bit of difference. He was stuck here.

Knives were not Gregory’s favorite, because they made it extra difficult for him to keep it strictly torture and not feeding time. He watched the trickle of bright red slide down Armand’s throat as that blade edge pierced that soft white skin. “Full disclosure, Armand. I’m probably going to enjoy this too much.”

Gregory fisted his free hand in Armand’s hair and dragged his head back so he could lick at that blood, slowly following the trail he made with the blade tip down Armand’s throat.

Armand’s breath hitched. The last thing he’d expected was this. For all of the blood that Santh drew of the past nights, for all of his maiming, he was never taken by it. Never breached that boundary. And for all of the horror of the situation, Armand couldn’t help but shudder against Gregory’s raw power. “I challenge you to stay away from me after this,” he taunted, throat vibrating against Gregory’s lips as he spoke.

Gregory yanked harder on Armand’s hair and pushed the knife into the flesh at the base of his throat, just at his collar. Blood seeped out around the blade, onto the stones of the cave floor. “Keep your mouth shut!” he ordered. “No talking, no moaning, no screaming; or I’ll make sure your vocal cords get the worst of it.” He leaned down and licked and sucked at the blood around the knife blade, then he fed it to Armand in a deep kiss.

 _No moaning_? Holy hell, that might be a challenge. The rest of it, Armand could control. But his body’s reaction to something so visceral? That would prove to be very problematic. Steeling himself, he winced at the knife’s attack and made an effort not to return the kiss in case that led to more punishment.

Gregory withdrew the knife agonizingly slow and straddled Armand’s small frame, appraising what damage he could do and how painful could he make it. He licked the blood from the blade, holding Armand’s eye contact. He twirled the knife in one hand then placed the tip along the soft skin of Armand’s side, just above the right kidney. “Now stay still and be good. Maybe I’ll let you moan just a little.” He shoved the knife in sharply.

Armand grunted on impact, regretting it in an instant. He gritted his teeth as his eyes watered, and he looked up at Gregory through the film of red. His gaze was defiant, his senses affronted, and if he wasn’t in the right mind, if he wasn’t bound, he might have struck Gregory.

Gregory stared into Armand’s eyes a long moment then leaned in and pressed lips against his ear, whispering, “What we want to do, Armand, is take you apart and put you back together over and over. Until that defiant streak of yours is gone.”

He placed his mouth over Armand’s and cruelly twisted the blade in his side, feeling and smelling that warm gush of blood as it spilled over his hand on the knife hilt. Gregory moaned into this kiss.

 _You_ _’ll never take me apart_ , Armand shot telepathically, groaning low in his throat at the pain. The agony was unnecessary, which was precisely why Gregory needed to apply it. Though a spark shot through his body at Gregory’s moans.

Gregory glared menacingly at that telepathic message. “Why are you still being this way, Armand? Didn’t Santh do his job right last night?” He yanked the blade from Armand’s side and wiped it on his own clothes then licked the blood from his hand, savoring the salty iron taste of it. “Where next,” he asked, twirling the knife again, staring down into Armand’s eyes. “I enjoy the tears.” He slid the blade along Armand’s cheek to catch one on the tip.

“Because I am The Vampire Armand, and my reputation precedes me,” Armand snapped, unwilling to break so soon from this treatment. This was only the second night, and he was finding the strength to continue again. Though never stupid, he remained still as anything as the blade came dangerously close to his eye.

Gregory slowly traced the blade tip along the very edge of Armand’s eye. He might be enjoying this too much, slipping just a little too dangerously away from the emotionless torturer. He paused with the knife at the far corner of Armand’s large brown eye and placed it just at the white of his eyeball as Armand dared to speak aloud.

“I think I told you not to speak,” Gregory said, venom in his voice. He lifted the knife and put it to Armand’s chest, then shoved it hard up and under the sternum. He covered Armand’s mouth with a firm hand to block any screams.

Armand’s eyes widened and his entire body froze. If nothing else, this had instilled a fear within him that made him understand the severity of the situation. He felt very suddenly sick with that fear, and he looked into Gregory’s eyes pleadingly. He would not act out of line, he would not speak. Only get that fucking knife out of his body.

Gregory laughed a little. “There’s the fear!” He withdrew the knife from Armand’s mid-section, feeling the heat of the blood soaking between their bodies. He licked it from the hilt of the blade and from his hand again. Placing the tip of it against Armand’s jugular and whispering against his ear, “Isn’t this what you did to David? Slit his throat with your nails and let him bleed out?”

Gregory lifted his head to look into those eyes again. “You’re very pretty when you’re like this,” he said, briefly letting his torturer persona drop.

Armand closed his eyes against Gregory’s gaze, shuddering against the cold air as his sternum throbbed in agony. He was careful not to buck into the knife again, so alight was his body with shivering pain, and took this mockery as it came. This was precisely what he had done to David, and he should be punished accordingly.

“Open your eyes,” Gregory ordered softly, continuing to stare down at Armand. He brushed a lock of wet curls off Armand’s forehead. He bit his own tongue and leaned in, kissing Armand, feeding him a little healing blood through it.

Armand did as asked for fear of the repercussions, wondering _why_. Why? Did it give Gregory that much more of a thrill to see the fear in his eyes when he hurt him? Were not his tears enough? Every jerk of his body? The involuntary cries and groans of pain? Once again, Armand did not return the kiss, fearing what might happen if he even did that. And it felt strange not to do it.

Gregory lifted his head from the kiss and stared at Armand again for a long drawn out minute. Just examining the fear and pain in him. The scent of all the blood was distracting, but he was used to it. He let the blade slide against Armand’s throat again, trailing his tongue up after it, enjoying the feel of this small body shivering against him.

Armand wanted to close his eyes again. He knew if he did, he would be subjected to more. He knew that if he asked to, it would become apparent that he wanted to, and he would be forced to keep them open as another form of torture. And so he looked to the cave opening again, eyes fixed upon the evergreens in its wake, the whole living world in all its glory. He allowed himself to forget how vulnerable he felt, so much so that he was almost taken away from the sensation of Gregory’s tongue upon him. All he could think of just now was how damn cold it was.

Gregory scowled down at Armand’s dissociated appearance. Outside the cave opening, Santh sat watching them without comment. Santh shrugged at Gregory.

Gregory turned Armand’s face back to himself. “I’m trying to connect here, Armand,” he muttered. “Don’t go somewhere else. It’s not as much fun for me.” He pressed his own body more firmly against Armand’s, tangling one hand into those curls again, pressing the knife against Armand’s ribs once again.

“What do you expect me to do, you psychopath?!” Armand shot suddenly, heart pounding and chest rising into the knife. “My punishment is to take this torture, which I am doing, not to create an emotional bond with you!”

Outside the cave, Santh laughed. Gregory shot him an angry look and he stopped.

“Do you want me to come in there and help,” Santh asked.

“I can handle it, thanks!” Gregory snarled back at him.

Gregory grabbed Armand by the hair and violently pulled his head back, dark lust overpowering him at the sounds Armand made. He sliced his own initials into Armand’s forehead with the knife. _GDC_. He licked the blood from the wounds greedily and then brutally kissed Armand’s mouth, groaning deeply into it.

Still, Armand didn’t return the kiss. How could he, shaken as he was by the whole ordeal, by the speed of it all? The wound on his forehead healed with ease, of course, but the very notion of it made him feel nauseous.

Another time perhaps, the power of Gregory’s movements, the lust in his voice might have incited Armand’s own arousal. But now, he was angry, and he ached, and he felt rather violated. And violation was not meant to be a part of this.

Gregory cursed under his breath, stood and glared down at Armand, bloody and broken. Gregory wasn’t supposed to get emotional about this at all and he knew it. Emotion was dangerous.

Santh was beside him suddenly, taking the knife away. “Hand it over. I’ll finish him,” Santh said in their old ancient language. “Go outside and shake it off.”

Gregory scowled down at Armand, disappointed for some reason. He stormed off outside the cave.

Santh twirled the knife artfully in his left hand and knelt beside Armand. “What a mess he made of you, little lamb.”

“Like you’ll treat me with any gentleness? As if you’ll clean me off and clothe me and feed me and tell me it’s all alright,” Armand said with a small sigh, eyes following the mouth of the cave again. He wanted to pull away from Santh, to fight for himself. But he had to keep reminding himself; this was his punishment. He had to take this. Two more nights.

Santh tilted his head. “Is that what you want? Gentleness and bathing and warm clothing and a meal?” Santh reached over and tucked a curl behind Armand’s ear neatly. “Do you want Marius to come in here and scoop you up in his arms, take you back to his rooms, wipe you down with a warm cloth and tell you what a lovely angel you are?”

Armand sighed and closed his eyes. He turned away from Santh’s touch. What cruel, cruel mockery. Why would he say such things? Just to torture him tenfold for this admission? Marius hadn’t even come to his trial. Marius had abandoned him. And with good reason. The signet ring he wore now meant nothing. Armand didn’t respond to Santh, didn’t want to gratify his words with an answer. Armand was quite certain he would never feel a ‘lovely angel’ again after this.

Santh wiped the blade of the knife off on his pants and listened to Armand’s thoughts, which were not hard to read at all right now. “Well, I’m a little disappointed, Armand. I think Greg broke you. I’m not sure how he managed it so fast.”

“He didn’t break me! Why can I not just sit here in silence and take whatever you throw at me?! I was just stabbed in the gut for talking, excuse me for taking a vow of silence,” Armand snapped, folding his arms. “Torture me more if you wish, but do it. Don’t just stand there talking about it. I am cold, and I am hungry and tired from the sheer amount of blood I have lost, and I want this over with!”

Santh leaned over Armand, pulling his head back by the hair and placing the blade against his throat, slowly sinking it in inch by inch, letting it lay there in him as he stared down into Armand’s eyes, much as Gregory had. Even more slowly, Santh pulled the blade back out, blood seeping out of the wounds and onto the cave floor. He licked the knife blade clean, savoring the rich warm blood, then nicked his own tongue with it and leaned over, letting his blood drip onto Armand’s lips.

Again, tears rose to Armand’s eyes. Even an immortal could not resist the agony of a blade buried in one’s throat. He whimpered in pain, even more so when the knife was removed and he lost a pint of blood. Though the taste of Santh’s blood sent sparks through his body, shivers down his spine, it was too little too late, and Armand felt himself growing indescribably weak with blood loss.

Santh lifted his own wrist to his mouth and bit into it, then placed it against Armand’s lips, letting the blood spill, waiting to see if he would latch on of his own will. Otherwise, he or Gregory would have to go hunt down a mortal and bring it in here for Armand to feed off of. Limp cold victims were no fun to torture. “Drink, little lamb.”

Armand did latch on, caught as he was at the very last second, and he drank as a half-starved newborn. He flung his hands to Santh’s forearm as he hungrily took and took and took, wondering just how long he could get away with drinking from this powerful beast.

Santh sucked in a sharp breath at the sudden pull, not expecting it from Armand, who was in such a weakened state. He dropped his head beside Armand’s on the cave floor and went limp himself, feeling the sharp ecstasy of it for a long drawn-out minute, humming with the feel of it pulling his heartbeat faster.

He pulled Armand back by his hair, yanking his arm free, cursing in the Ancient language at him and shoving him back to ground. Santh backhanded him hard across the face and glared down at him.

Armand gasped at the assault, looking up at Santh with wide eyes as he brought a hand to his cheek on instinct. What had Santh expected, encouraging a ravenous vampire to drink?!

“Gregory,” Armand said very suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere. And he didn’t understand it himself. “If the offer to choose still stands, I want Gregory to do this.” Gregory had come to him the night before to check on him, Gregory was not completely a monster. There was at least that.

Santh laughed. “What? Gregory? Are you sure? You really pissed him off. He’s out there storming the forests right now. He’s not going to be nice to you at all.”

Armand frowned deeply, looking away from Santh as he racked his brain. What could he have done? What could he have possibly done? He’d lain there and took every second of torture Gregory saw fit to lay upon him. And Gregory had stopped, as though burned. What could Armand have possibly done? He folded his arms, drawing his knees to his chest, so tired of being naked and vulnerable. “…Is that not enough for tonight anyway?”

Santh twirled the knife around his fingers for a while and watched Armand’s fetal position. He considered the request, and sat back from him, leaning against the cave wall and saying nothing. He would let him rest for some time, but he wouldn’t let Armamd know that. “Well, we’ll wait for Greg’s return and see if he wants to take this back up. Knives aren’t my favorite anyway.”

Armand could have gathered that by looking at his mangled, blackened skin from the night before. Along his wrists, the backs of his thighs. It seemed Santh had a penchant for fire above all else. “Fine,” he murmured, burying his face in his knees.

Eventually, Gregory wandered back into the cave and noted Santh sitting silent beside the still form of Armand. Gregory sat opposite him, and they remained quiet for a while.

“Did you calm yourself,” Santh asked.

“I did,” Gregory answered.

Santh offered the knife back, and Gregory took it but decided to let Armand alone awhile more.

Armand made a decision then. If he were to be left alone, he would make the most of it. Not to escape, nothing so severe. But he stood, and he walked to the cave opening before sitting again. Without comment, he reached out and felt the grass between his fingers, delighting in the coldness of it, the crispness. He wanted to lay his whole body down upon it and relax, but he knew that they would never allow that. This small touch would have to serve as his only respite for now.

Two more nights to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, SMASH CUT TO:  
> Viktor and David and Lestat.


	24. Tryst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David invites Viktor up to his prison to get to know him better... a little too much better for Lestat's liking.

_Text conversation between David and Viktor_

David: Hello little brother, what are you up to?

Viktor: Hello! Rose and I are just browsing a gardening website. She wants to start keeping flowers in the courtyard. How are you?

David: I’m well enough. I’m watching a television program. Are there not flowers already in the courtyard?

Viktor: Thousands, but Rose wants her own. She wants to set down roots and make this place feel like our home too :rose: :bouquet: :tulip:

David: Flowers die. Plant a tree.

Viktor: Some flowers come back every year

David: Viktor, I could give you something more interesting than flowers to think about.

Viktor: heh ok what’s that?

David: What do you think it might be, my boy?

Viktor: well I would guess maybe something from your Talamasca days? Maybe something on Poltergeist activity or cryptids? …are cryptids real? I mean I guess it makes more sense to ask about specific cryptids…

David: No, none of that is what I was intending. Why don’t you come up here, and I’ll show you what I was intending?

Viktor: Ok, Rose wants to FaceTime with her friend Charlotte anyway. Be right there :)

\---------------------

David laughed at how easy that was. Too easy. He sat up from his stretched out position on the couch and waited for Viktor’s knock. This poor sweet boy.

Viktor adored David, and was so happy with the invitation to come see him up in Lestat’s old rooms. Viktor still had trouble feeling at home with his new family. They had all been together for so long, decades if not centuries, and they all had connections and stories that went beyond anything Father wrote about in his books. To be invited, included by name, it warmed him, and he didn’t even think of how Lestat had asked to know when he would be with David.

He knocked twice, waiting for an answer.

David opened the door with a welcoming smile. “My little brother,” he said with a sly look. He pulled Viktor into a quick embrace, noting the smell of cologne and shampoo. All shiny and clean and new. “Please come in, have a seat. The couch is most comfortable.”

Viktor returned the embrace warmly, feeling so welcome by David, and he took a comfortable seat on the couch, one socked foot slipping beneath him.

David shut the door and locked it.

“You look like you’re making yourself at home here!” Viktor said, noting some of David’s own books and journals lying about.

“I am,” David confirmed, settling on the couch, only a small distance from Viktor and facing him. “I get books from the Paris library. I have everything here I need, really. Lestat had a television installed too.”

David surveyed Viktor’s appearance. He seemed relaxed and at ease. His clothing was atrocious. When would Lestat fix that situation? David placed a hand on Viktor’s shoulder. “Did you tell Lestat you were here?”

Viktor gave a guilty smile and shrugged. “No? But I don’t think it’s important…It’s all being settled, right? And you’re not deranged or anything. I trust you!”

David gave an exaggerated evil laugh. “Excellent.” He then smiled genuinely at Viktor. “No. I’m not deranged at all. They’ve tranquilized me.” How easy it was to be this familiar with Viktor, simply because he so resembled Lestat.

 _They_ were Kapetria and her replimoid scientists. They’d examined David thoroughly the night before, listened to the stories about his dreams—the dreams that were obviously the stored memories of this body’s original owner. Kapetria had prescribed him some medications, then promised to check on his progress in a few nights after doing some more research about what might be causing David’s strange temper.

Viktor was immediately interested in this. “Really? Fareed had been experimental with ways to have human drugs directly compatible with our systems, but the results were pretty mixed, so it’s great to see an example working !” He seemed to catch himself suddenly though, and backtracked. “But…but do you feel alright? I’m sorry, I totally ignored the most important part there.”

“You’re sweet,” David observed, holding eye-contact. “Yes, I feel more or less fine. I’m a little loopy, is all. Kapetria seemed to know what to prescribe and how to get it into me, but maybe she will need to fix the dosage. Fareed might have been just as helpful.” If only Fareed deigned to answer their calls.

David touched Viktor’s hair, smoothing a lock over his ear. His hair was unfortunately shorter than Lestat’s. “I only have odd dreams once in a while now. Do you have odd dreams, Viktor? Or are your dreams all roses and ice cream cones?”

For the first time, Viktor’s usually cheerful disposition faltered a little, and he tucked the other side of his hair out of the way. “Not exactly, no… I don’t have the same phobias I use to, but sometimes I still have….bad dreams, I guess, of being closed in tight places, dark places…just wanting so bad in my dreams to be out… I don’t know, outside, out somewhere else… Had them since I was a kid, though, so I guess that’s just how the subconscious works. But they aren’t so bad.”

David hadn’t expected this response at all. Concern welled within him. “Claustrophobia? I had no idea, I’m sorry. Does it stem from your childhood in the cellars, perhaps? But now you are fine sleeping in the crypts? I can teach you some mental tricks to…well, look who I’m talking to. I would think Seth had already done that for you.”

Viktor’s laugh always came light and bubbly, an easy smile. “It doesn’t pain me while I’m awake anymore, really, not since I was turned. It’s only…well almost only in dreams now, so don’t worry about it, brother.” How sweet David was, reaching out like this. Definitely Viktor’s favorite brother.

David smiled at the familiar sound of that laugh. “Ah well, I have a protective streak, especially around Lestat. And you are my new family I must keep an eye on.” David gazed for a long moment into those blue-grey eyes and tilted his head a little. “It’s odd how familiar you feel to me,” he whispered almost to himself.

Viktor adored those words, and memorized the way they sounded, accepting and sincere. “I know it sounds stupid, because it isn’t the same thing at all,” he said with a confessional tone, “but I feel the same. I’ve been reading your books over and over my whole life. You have no idea how excited I would be to receive a new one, to know about my family… So in a way, you’re all familiar to me already too, Si…David.”

David moved a little closer, placing a hand on Viktor’s shoulder, sliding his thumb gently against the smooth cool skin of his collarbone. “Viktor,” David said softly seductive. “How are you this naïve, you sweet thing?”

Viktor’s smile faltered as he tried to process whether or not he’d been insulted. “I don’t think I’m naïve,” he answered carefully, leaning in to the comforting touch, enjoying David’s cold skin. “I’m still young, so there’s that, but naïve is a bit harsh, don’t you think?”

David chuckled deep in his throat. “Naïve in the gentlest meaning of the word.”

He gazed at Viktor moment longer, slowly biting into his tongue with one fang until his own blood filled his mouth. Viktor wasn’t moving at all, so David slid his hand up along that strong jaw, cupping his face, and he placed his lips over that familiar mouth, letting the blood stain their kiss.

Viktor sat still, the softness of David’s mouth touching his own, warm from a recent hunt, and he tried to back away, as though this were some innocent mistake like running into someone down an aisle at a store, but David held him just tight enough to show he wanted him to stay.

Truly Viktor felt nothing but a numb confusion until the blood lipped his lips onto his tongue. Then he was lost, and leaning forward eagerly, he grasped blindly for something to hold.

David laughed a little into this kiss as Viktor, urged by the blood, finally got the idea and seemed a little frantic. David let him fumble a bit, grabbing at David’s clothing, the fabric of his shirt. He held Viktor’s head still in both his hands and fully kissed him, as if drinking from a cup, humming slightly, feeding more blood into it.

Everything was warm and flowing, from the blood down Viktor’s throat to the blood in his own veins, and he felt immediately dizzy. Of course, he kissed Rose this way, and it was every bit as pleasurable and enticing, but this was new and unexpected, and David was far more fierce than his bride. David kissed with an experienced passion that made Viktor feel somewhat timid and curious at the same time, and he immediately wondered if this kiss would be even better mixed with a bit of his own blood.

David sucked on Viktor’s soft lower lip then pulled back and looked at his face, his almost glazed eyes. He kissed and sucked a trail along Viktor’s jawline, then back to his mouth, resuming the heat of the first kiss, a little slower now, one hand sliding back into that soft yellow hair, cupping the back of his head.

Enchanted completely, Viktor returned this kiss with more verve, sliding a somewhat unsure hand behind David’s neck to draw him close, wanting more of his blood, wanting more of those shivers to run through him.

David couldn’t help but moan a little as Viktor seemed to get the feel of this, his hand familiar on the back of his neck, the way Lestat encouraged sometimes. In fact this whole experience was like a fantasy David had always had, of a more submissive Lestat in his arms. Less of the struggle between them to dominate.

He pressed Viktor back on the couch, leaning over him, pressing his tongue against one of Viktor’s fangs and letting the blood spill between them again.

But speaking of Lestat… Lestat had wanted nothing more after he’d finished his court duties for the night than to curl up on the couch with his head in Louis’s lap until dawn. But when he couldn’t find Louis, he decided to go out for a ride on his motorcycle instead. He headed up to his old rooms—his glorified closet, not David’s prison—to change his clothes and check in on David while he was there.

The locked door was so unexpected. Lestat tried it twice before stepping back. He considered knocking, but David might as well have hung a sign on the door that said _Go away Lestat_ , so he didn’t bother.

Maybe Lestat would just go sit alone in the roof instead…

Viktor gasped, pulling away from the kiss. “Did you hear something, David?” He peered toward the door.

David lifted his head and watched Viktor’s nervous glance with something like amusement. “The door is locked. Don’t worry. Mom and Dad can’t get in,” he teased. This was all too reminiscent of his own early experimentation with boys up in his rooms while his parents were downstairs doing boring parental things.

David chuckled a little, leaned down and licked the enticing length of Viktor’s throat and grazed his fangs along that pulse point, where the blood is just waiting to be claimed.

Viktor gasped, then released that breath as a soft, stuttering moan, feeling those fangs just tease at a scratch along his neck. God, he wanted to be bit. He wasn’t even sure what compelled him to such a desire so quickly, but David’s touch was intoxicating, and Viktor tipped his head back over the arm of the couch.

David felt Viktor’s body reacting against him, and he reveled in it, holding him down with a little more strength, hushing him with gentle words. He slid a hand beneath Viktor’s shirt and up his broad back, while tangling the fingers of his other hand in the soft hair of his head. David could hear the want in Viktor for more. Abruptly, he drove his fangs in, the fount of blood flooding his mouth and his senses. So like Lestat’s, but so different, still tinged with youth and innocence and trust.

The murmur of voices beyond the door stopped Lestat in his tracks, and he turned back to face it. He’d recognized David’s voice, of course, but couldn’t place the other one, and that concerned him. David was supposed to be in isolation. People shouldn’t be in there without Lestat’s knowledge and certainly not with the door locked.

Lestat felt out for the mind of the other in the room, and when he realized it was Viktor and what David was _doing_ with him, he flushed with rage. Turning sharply, Lestat went downstairs one flight to the rooms he shared with Louis. Through them, he went out the balcony doors to jump up to the balcony above. Then it was as if he simply appeared in the room with David and Viktor, standing there a few feet from the couch, staring down at them with an icy glare.

Viktor was absolutely blissed out at the pain in his neck, the pull of his blood from his body, aided by his racing heart, David’s soft lips at his neck, his Dad’s wrathful eyes-

_Oh shit._

David felt Viktor suddenly tense beneath him and withdrew quickly, lifting his head to see what was wrong. Oh.

Lestat was standing over them, anger emanating from him. David licked the blood from his lips and sat up, the pleasure still swirling within him from the blood and from Viktor himself.

“Splendid timing,” he muttered with frustration. But seeing Lestat’s eyes, he decided to change tactic. “Viktor isn’t to blame. I seduced him here.”

“Of course you did,” Lestat snapped. He wouldn’t have thought otherwise. He hated that David was to blame for anything at all, though. _Again_. Lestat was also exceedingly annoyed that Viktor seemed to be past the time when he always obeyed Lestat immediately and completely. He couldn’t really be surprised that Viktor had broken his rule about not coming up here without telling Lestat first. After all, Lestat probably would have done the same thing. But it was still disappointing.

Viktor could see the upset look in his father’s eyes, the hard set of his jaw, and he was instantly and immediately ashamed of himself. “Dad, no, it’s not David. He didn’t do anything wrong. It’s fine!” He rambled quickly, trying to sit up where David still straddled his hips. “I mean he invited me ,but he didn’t make me, we were just…we…this is fine!”

David untangled himself from Viktor and stood. He held a hand out to try and calm Viktor from the nervous awkward ramble he was suddenly going on. “It’s fine, Viktor. You’re a grown up. You don’t have to defend this. Lestat would probably have done the exact same thing, and he knows it.” David glanced to Lestat. “I’m sorry, Lestat. I told you I wouldn’t do this with him, but look at him! How am I to resist that? Better I be his first than some riff-raff out off the streets. I wasn’t hurting him.”

It wasn’t _fine_. It hurt like hell! Lestat clenched his teeth, looking between the two of them. “Does Rose think it’s fine?” Lestat snapped at Viktor. He could only shake his head at David. “Riff-raff? What do you take him for??”

Rose…but…but this was normal for their kind wasn’t it? And it was Viktor’s brother, it was David, so it’s not like it…Viktor had shared blood with plenty before, it was…it… “Rose doesn’t know,” Viktor whispered. “I just came up here to hang out…”

“Damn it, I told you to talk to her!” It was a good thing Lestat wasn’t holding anything, or he would have thrown it at Viktor’s head right then.

David lightly touched Viktor’s arm. “Don’t let him guilt you about this, Viktor. He’s angry at me.”

David turned to Lestat again. “What do I take him for? I take him for the clone of the Vampire Lestat, still in his twenties, and the object of desire for more than half the undead population right now! I wanted to make him mine for a night, and to make it memorable. You storming in on it has certainly done that!”

Lestat turned to David sharply, poking him in the chest with an angry fingertip. “You’re under house arrest. You can’t just do what you want.”

Viktor scrambled off the couch with none of the vanpiric grace he had come to expect from himself, nearly falling over another low chair. “I…I’m sorry, I didn’t think I would need…I didn’t come up here expecting this. He just said he had something more interesting to show me than flowers!”

David couldn’t help the burst of laughter. Even now the poor boy didn’t understand. “Viktor, again, that was flirtation.”

Viktor couldn’t be more embarrassed, hurt by David’s laughter. Flirting again? Sure, Viktor had figured out when he got here, that David wanted to play around, but was he really supposed to be able to pick up on that over text? That’s not how Fareed or Seth or his mother spoke. They were direct, they said what they meant and didn’t play games with words. Viktor wasn’t used to real conversations going like that, even with Rose, but Rose never humiliated him for it like David was.

David turned back to Lestat, the amusement dropping from him at the sight of his still angry maker standing there. He didn’t know what to say or how to excuse this behavior. “Lestat, I’m trapped here in these rooms with no interaction from other vampires, except you. And you only show up when you need a change of clothes, or Louis happens not to be around.”

The fact that Viktor hadn’t even spoken to Rose in general about his recent curious feelings made Lestat protectively furious on her behalf. He knew that if she’d been the one to walk in, she would have been shocked and hurt. And that Viktor would do _anything_ to hurt Rose made Lestat want to strike him down where he stood. That Viktor was making excuses for it now made it even worse.

On the other hand, David’s laughter at his son rankled Lestat, and he spread his hand so that all of his fingertips were against David’s chest. Only a tap was enough to send him sprawling back down onto the couch. “No interaction is the point.” He glowered down at him. “Did you think this was supposed to be a vacation? Spoiled child. You remember what the alternatives were, don’t you? Don’t you know what’s happening to Armand, even as we speak? What the torture is doing to him? God damn it, David, that could have been you!”

David looked up from where he’d fallen back on the couch, a little surprised by the force Lestat had used. Defeated on both sides of him now. Here David was, trying to be a good boy up in his rooms. Taking his meds, doing his anger management exercises. Everything he could to win Lestat’s trust again, and now his desire for this boy threw that all out the window. And Viktor was hurt too, that was the worst of it.

“Viktor, I don’t mean to make you feel insulted.” David stood again, reaching over to touch Viktor’s hair gently, all too aware that Lestat was only feet away, glaring at him. David tried to shut that out. “I truly wanted your company up here. And I’m not going to say it wasn’t entirely for a chance to share some intimacy…even if forbidden.”

David turned back to Lestat. Armand’s name was still a grating thing for David. He wasn’t at all sorry that little urchin was spending nights in torture, but David wouldn’t let Lestat know that. He took this another direction.

“You know,” David began, “you spend all your bloody free time with Louis now! And I understand you’re ‘married,’ but a few extra minutes to acknowledge my existence once in a while would be nice! And LOUIS NEVER EVEN SPEAKS TO ME ANY MORE!” David roared suddenly, all the frustration over Louis boiling to the top. He clenched his jaw, hands in fists, and looked away from Lestat, trying to remember to breathe and get the anger under control.

Lestat recoiled involuntarily, staring at David in dismay. He wasn’t going to deny it. Lestat spent every last chance he could get with Louis because he feared each night with him was going to be their last. Louis was slipping away from all of them. He never spoke to Lestat any more, either. They spent most of their hours together in silence, exchanging the barest word. And the times when they _did_ speak, Lestat could feel Louis wasn’t truly listening to him, not absorbing the significance of anything Lestat tried to tell him. One of these nights, Louis would be gone again, on another trip, for who knows how long this time, and Lestat wouldn’t be able to cope. Wouldn’t last…

He didn’t mean to take David for granted in the meantime, though. It hurt Lestat that David was suffering alone, and Lestat still blamed his own neglect of David for what had driven him to start acting so mad in the first place. But what could he do? He knew Louis was jealous of him and David. What if that’s what ended up driving Louis away?

Lestat stepped forward abruptly and took David by the sides of his arms. “My son is not a consolation prize,” he said in a low, dangerous voice.

David flinched at Lestat’s tight grip. “I never thought that of him. And I would never hurt him, Lestat. He’s my brother, just as Louis is. I was trying to share something with him. Trying to create pleasant memories. Why am I allowed to do these things with certain brothers but not others? Don’t say it’s because of Rose. Marriage is not a real institution in our world. Besides, it’s between them to decide the rules, not you.”

It didn’t matter to Lestat if marriage was ‘real’ or not. All that mattered was what it meant to Rose. If she was hurt by Viktor’s actions, then Lestat was righteously angry. And if Viktor wasn’t going to talk to her about it, then Lestat would have to do it himself, which meant being the one to hurt her as the messenger, and he was already resenting Viktor for that inevitability before it even happened. But Lestat couldn’t possibly allow her to remain ignorant.

Viktor looked between the two of them, torn between wanting to escape as quickly as possible and wanting to go to his dad to comfort him.

The latter won.

“Father…Father, I’m sure David doesn’t see me like a consolation prize,” he said, starting with the easiest part. He reached out to take Lestat’s hand in his own, bringing it to his chest. “David’s going through a lot right now. We all are. It’s a lot of change for him, and for Louis too! I’m sure Louis doesn’t want to leave you, Dad, he loves you!”

Viktor really hoped Lestat wouldn’t be even more bitter at him now for commenting out loud on Lestat’s private thoughts. Sometimes Viktor’s words just started to tumble from his mouth without ceasing.

“It’s okay, Viktor,” David said. “It’s just a quarrel. We have them all the time. Welcome to the family.” He narrowed his eyes as he thought over Viktor’s last sentence though, and looked back at Lestat. “What does he mean, by that? Why would Louis want to leave you?”

Lestat released David and took half a step back. His other palm lingered against Viktor’s chest for a moment, feeling his heart thudding beneath it, before Lestat pulled his hand back. Since they both insisted on it, Lestat believed them about what they said of themselves at least, although he still didn’t like it at all. But his eyes grew guarded when they brought Louis back into it.

Of course Lestat knew Louis _loved_ him. That was entirely beside the point. He shot David a threatening look, as if he ought to know why Louis would want to leave him, even though Lestat didn’t even know it himself.

“He wouldn’t,” Lestat snapped defensively. Because this wasn’t about what Louis _wanted_. It was just something that was happening. The same way Lestat knew Louis wasn’t avoiding David because he _wanted_ to. He was just…slipping away. They were _all_ losing him.

David tried to puzzle out the threatening look from Lestat. What was going on with Louis that David was unaware of? He glanced over at the door that led to the private staircase down to the rooms Louis and Lestat occupied now. The door he’d never dared to go near since he’d been locked in here.

Lestat took another step back from both of them, shaking his head and bristling. “I’m taking Rose to the beach.” The two of them could just stay here and do whatever they wanted with each other.

Viktor raced forward, trying to capture Lestat’s hand again. All the racing pleasure from David’s kiss long gone, leaving him with a shame he thought only his mother could instill in him.

“Please, Dad, don’t leave angry,” he pleaded, showing his hands in an emotional surrender. “I know this is my mistake, and I will talk to Rose about it! You know she’s my everything. I love her with my whole heart, and I’ve just caught myself up in a mistake here! Please, take her out if you wish, but you won’t say anything about it, about tonight, Dad, please? You have it on my honor I will tell her.”

David sensed the shameful feelings in Viktor and felt frustrated by this entire situation. Lestat had ruined what would have been an otherwise very pleasurable and memorable night for Viktor. David glared at Lestat in return. “Congratulations, you’ve just instilled shame in him for what he did here. There was nothing shameful in it, Viktor, nor was it a mistake.”

“I cheated on my damned wife, David. Tell me what isn’t shameful about that?” Viktor tossed back. “Dad’s right. I should have talked to Rose first. I just thought I could ignore it, and it wouldn’t come up again, but it did and how am I supposed to tell her this?!”

The sheer lack of respect David was paying Rose made Lestat angrier than anything else about this situation. David was acting as if her feelings in this didn’t matter at all. Had David ever even bothered trying to get to know her in the years she’d been one of them? Lestat’s fist clenched, and he only barely refrained from hitting David with for daring to blame Lestat for Viktor’s shame. But Viktor had already answered for it well enough on his own.

“Rose is as much your sister, as Viktor is your brother,” Lestat reminded David. “Does she mean nothing to you?”

David threw his hands in the air. “Of course she means something to me!” David didn’t understand why they were acting like this was some sacrilegious thing that had just taken place between consenting vampires. That silly _marriage_ had very little chance of lasting beyond a decade. The very fact that Viktor had so easily given in to David was proof of that, and he let Viktor read that thought clearly.

“Go, go grovel to her for forgiveness,” David said, waving them off. “I’m the morally reprehensible one here. I get it.” He flung himself back on the couch and gabbed a book from the table to bury himself in.

It was a good thing Viktor was between him and David, otherwise Lestat really would have hit him for those comments. It was like he was being as disrespectful as possible on purpose just to anger him.

Viktor felt it like a physical strike to the chest, and he wanted to argue, he wanted to holler about this, because David was wrong. He and Rose had already been married six years now and they loved each other! Gregory and Chrysanthe had been together far longer. It could be done!

But Viktor didn’t have it in him. He just turned back to Lestat, shaking slightly. “Please don’t tell her. It’s on me.”

Seeing how Davids insults were affecting Viktor made Lestat feel defensive on his behalf as well, despite how mad he still was at his son for his lack of obedience. “I apologize for David,” Lestat said stiffly, since David was obviously too out of sorts to take responsibility for himself right now. “And I won’t tell her,” he agreed. “But I won’t keep it from her either. So tell her fast. Before I see her again.”

Maybe… maybe Rose wouldn’t be hurt, Viktor thought. Maybe it would be all right. But even if that was the case, it was still reprehensible that Viktor didn’t do her the respect of talking to her about his feelings first.

David rolled his eyes. “I didn’t fuck him. I kissed him and took some blood, and he was fully cooperative. I’m sorry to Rose if she’s going to be upset, but she must be aware we are all vampires here.”

“It’s not your fault, David, if Rose is upset.” Lestat didn’t blame him for that part of this at all. This was all on Viktor, despite how insensitive David was being now about Rose’s lingering mortal feelings.

David looked away from the two of them, tired and frustrated from the tease of blood and then the sudden stop. He wished they would go now. This whole thing was a giant disaster, and his only intention had been to share something sweet and bonding with Viktor.

Viktor cast a look toward David, pained at how he turned away, but also suffering at his father’s disappointment. He wanted to go to both, to seek assurance from both, but he doubted he would have it from either. “David…I made my choice to come here and do this. It’s not your fault. Dad, please don’t be angry with him?”

“I’m not,” Lestat said angrily. David hadn’t done anything wrong, as far as he was concerned. Not until he started talking about Rose in such an insulting way. Lestat knew David had seduced Viktor, but he blamed Viktor for the consequences of that, not David.

Lestat still didn’t _like_ the idea of David seducing Viktor at all, but he wasn’t going to pretend it was on moral grounds or anything other than selfishness on his part.

David glanced up at the two of them. Viktor so earnest and desperate for Lestat’s approval, and Lestat looking frustrated and weighed down with responsibilities. Father and son. “You both are so beautiful,” he muttered then looked away again, to get the distraction of them out of his view. “I’m sorry I was disrespectful. I’m sorry for my part in all of it.”

Viktor was glad that David wasn’t looking, because he visibly cringed. Viktor was starting to get tired of being called beautiful, especially when the coven’s standard of beauty seemed to be based solely on how much he resembled Lestat and how fancy his clothes were. “I’m…I’m going to go. I think…space. Yes, space is good.*

Lestat continued to glare at Viktor as the boy left the room. He’d better go straight to Rose and waste no more time. “ _Tell me_ when you’re coming up here,” he reiterated before Viktor was quite gone. “So next time I don’t interrupt.”

David laughed a little. “I’m sure he won’t be back now, Lestat. Don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Lestat snipped. “You insult me by association.” He continued to glower down at David for a moment before abruptly turning from him and going around the couch to go to his largest closet.

David remained silent as Lestat rifled through his closet for whatever outfit he was selecting. He thought about Viktor and how he’d been hesitant and then suddenly so hungry for the whole heated exchange. How Viktor had not been aggressive like Lestat was with him. He was sweet and needy, almost clinging for more.

“Why are you getting dressed again?” David asked over his shoulder. “It’s well past midnight.”

Lestat stood in the middle of the closet near the dresser island and looked at the racks that surrounded him on three sides. Maybe he could squeeze some of these cltohes into Louis’s closets. He should just take a few armfuls down there, and then he wouldn’t have to come up here to change if doing so annoyed David so much.

“You expect me to wear the same thing all night?” he answered, even though he probably would have done just that if he hadn’t had the thought to go for a motorcycle ride. He could hardly wear these clothes for that. And now, even more than before, he craved the wind in his hair and the road under his wheels. He needed to get out of his own head. He shrugged off his blazer and hung it up, then turned to the dresser and pulled out a pair of jeans and a long sleeved shirt.

David didn’t answer. He rolled his head to the side on the back of the couch and watched the closet door, his eyes suddenly tired and wanting to shut. He listened to all the familiar sounds of Lestat dressing and felt oddly comforted by them. He waited patiently for Lestat to come out in whatever fashion statement he was going to make.

Lestat topped the ensemble with a dark burgundy leather jacket. He took far longer than required to change into such simple clothes, but by the time he came back out, at least he wasn’t seething anymore.

He paused to stare across the room at the portion of David’s head he could see over the back of the couch, but then instead of leaving directly, Lestat came back around it to look down at him. Putting a knee on the cushion, he leaned over David to look at him more closely.

David flinched, coming more awake suddenly, then froze. It felt a bit like Lestat was claiming ownership over him, leaning over and examining so thoroughly. “What,” he asked, staring back at those crystal blue eyes.

Lestat just continued to study him for a minute, as if he wouldn’t answer. He couldn’t tell if the differences he saw in David were the result of the medication or the malady that necessitated it in the first place. His hand moved as if he’d touch David’s face, but it didn’t end up closing the distance. “What did he taste like?” he finally asked.

David slowly smiled up at Lestat. Of course he would want to know that. David thought back to that brief minute of ecstasy and tried to think of the exact right description for it. “Honeyed wine, black cherries, dark rich port…. need and hunger and love all in one. Rather like you, really.”

Lestat wasn’t sure if he liked that or hated it. He stared down at David, the ambivalence showing in his expression. He certainly didn’t like how David seemed to be gloating, though, and so Lestat flicked him before withdrawing and putting his foot back on the floor.

David flinched away again. “My God, it’s a tough crowd tonight,” he grumbled, rubbing where Lestat had flicked him. “Why ask if you didn’t want to know?”

It was a valid question, and Lestat didn’t know how to answer. Perhaps he’d just wanted to see if David felt any remorse at all for doing it. Although, why should he? Just because it bothered Lestat?

He took a few steps backward until he came to an armchair and then he fell back into it and stared across at David, his fingertips rubbing his lips thoughtfully. “And what about Louis?” he said, his eyes still narrow and guarded. “How does he compare?”

David hesitated. Was Lestat deliberately trying to rile David with that question? He stared hard at him for some time then looked away, making himself focus back on Louis. This was a little more painful to think on, as it had been some time, and Louis was apparently disapproving of David now, ignoring him.

In fact, it was an exercise in pain to think back on. He stared up at the ceiling, trying to come up with the right words. But why was he trying to doing so at all? Lestat didn’t need comparison between Viktor and Louis.

“I can’t compare him or describe his blood… It’s crude to do so, and you know it,” David said softly, not looking at Lestat.

Lestat didn’t really want to hear it anyway. David’s answer made him feel a little bit better, and he nodded. If David wasn’t going to respect Lestat’s children, at least he seemed to respect Louis. Though in a way, Lestat was also disappointed. Louis never shared blood with Lestat now, and as jealous as it made him that Louis did it with David, part of Lestat still wanted to live vicariously through him.

Lestat’s hand fell, and he looked to the balcony doors, but he didn’t rise to go out yet. “I’m sorry you’re so bored up here,” he said eventually, the words sincere.

David opened his eyes again and lifted his head, which felt a little too heavy. “I’m not bored. I’m restless. It’s stupid really, as I can go to Paris any time and find entertainment.” He tried to stay focused on Lestat, who seemed in need of something right now. Conversation maybe. “You could come and keep me company more often, if you like. You got me that giant television. We can watch things on it and pass judgment on mortals together.” He smiled warmly then laid his head back on the couch because it was too tiring to hold it up any more. “I think Kapetria needs to adjust my meds.”

“I’ll call her,” Lestat offered. He’d do it later, though. She probably wasn’t up this late, anyway. His fingertips traced the weave on the end of the chair’s arm. He’d always liked these chairs, though the ones in Louis’s room were nice as well. But of course, none of that really mattered… “I’ll come to you more often,” he said after another minute. “I promise.” Even with as much time as he had been trying to spend with Louis, Lestat had really been spending most of his time alone. And he supposed that wasn’t good for any of them.

David opened one eye, because it seemed Lestat was still there across the way, in the chair, saying he would come visit more. “Please do. I like to be with you. You’re my favorite person. My best friend. You can stay here now… why are you leaving …? Oh, right. I did something wrong again.” David forced himself to lift his head. “I have to sleep now. I’ll lie here. You be a gent and stay there.” He stretched out on the couch and tried to find a cushion for his head but gave up and just lay still, letting sleep wash over him.

David seemed so out of it that the last of Lestat’s anger toward him faded. He took his phone out of his pocket and sent Kapetria an email about David’s condition, and then he leaned back in the chair, his legs stretched out before him, watching David sleep.

Lestat didn’t really know why he stayed… It seemed David needed him to, though he couldn’t possibly know if Lestat was still there or not. His gaze eventually drifted from David to the night sky beyond the windows. He could just barely make it out past the reflections from the lights in the room in the glass.

Lestat wondered if Viktor was breaking Rose’s heart at this very moment. Or would she be all right? His poor Rose had already suffered so much in her short life… Lestat didn’t want to reach out to her in case she didn’t know yet, so picking up his phone again, he texted Viktor.

Lestat: Tell Rose if she needs to get away from you to call me.

Viktor: Rose wants to be alone right now. She’s gone for a hunt…she says she might stay at the Paris house for the day.

Viktor: but I’ll text her that if you want

Lestat: I’ll do it.

Viktor: I’m sorry. I know it’s her I should apologize to and I did, dad, I swear I did. But I should have told you where I was going

Lestat almost texted Viktor back several times, but he ended up typing nothing. He honestly didn’t know what to say. Even if Viktor had informed Lestat he was going up to David’s room, it’s not like Lestat would have prevented it. All the same things would have happened. The only difference is, Lestat probably wouldn’t have interrupted, and Viktor wouldn’t have been caught. So was that why Viktor was sorry now? It was a cynical thought, but Lestat couldn’t stop it.

After a while longer mulling over these thoughts, Lestat sent Rose a message, offering his shoulder to cry on if she needed it. But he wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t want to be near him now with how much he’d remind her of the one who hurt her. The fact that Viktor could do anything to make Rose not want to be near Lestat just made him all the more resentful of his identical twin son in this moment.

The hours passed in a blur of his own vague mental state. At one point, Lestat got a reply from Kapetria saying she’d come to check on David at sundown.

Lestat became aware dawn was nearing, and since David went unconscious every morning earlier than he did, Lestat knew David needed to get to bed. Rising, Lestat crossed to the couch, leaning over him and running his hand over his hair. “Wake up,” he said gently. “It’s time to go to sleep.”

David opened his eyes and wondered for a moment where he was and what time of night it was. He blinked blurrily at Lestat. “I am asleep. You woke me up to tell me to go to sleep,” he complained, letting Lestat pull him up and lead him to the bedroom, which was fortified against the sun.

David collapsed onto the bed, and stretched out, enjoying the feel of all his muscles straining and relaxing again, like a giant cat. He found the pillows he preferred and wrapped an arm around one and lay his head on another. He wondered if Lestat would stay with him today, but knew he probably wouldn’t.

David opened one eye and searched for him in the darkened room. He wouldn’t ask, because he’d come to learn that asking often meant Lestat wouldn’t.

Lestat folded the comforter over David and bent down to kiss the corner of his eye. He suddenly wanted to apologize to him…for being so angry, for leaving him alone for so long, for locking him in a tower, for not _being enough_ …

But he knew David was too tired, too drugged to hear anything. So it all remained unspoken. Lestat lingered until the death sleep claimed David, and then he went down to the crypts alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up, Armand's punishment is over and he is a changed man. Marius and Lestat both have some things to say about it!


	25. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armand's torture is finished, and it is time for him to rejoin the coven once he passes Lestat's inspection. Armand reunites with Daniel, and Marius has some choice words for Gregory.

Gregory stood outside Lestat’s royal office with Armand in tow. He glanced aside at the younger vampire. He’d given Armand a fresh set of clothing and cleaned him up a bit, but he still looked obviously worn. “Don’t throw away the last four nights of work by saying the wrong things to our Prince,” Gregory warned, and then he knocked loudly at the office door.

Armand was in no mind to say anything in particular to Lestat. He’d been so thoroughly violated for the last four nights in every which way that he felt he’d never speak out of turn again. He folded his arms and nodded, wanting nothing more than Daniel’s company.

Lestat let them in, his expression guarded and somber. Immediately, he was struck by how deflated Armand appeared. he gestured for them to sit, not saying anything until they were settled.

Gregory sat, unbuttoning the button on his suit coat and crossing one leg over the other comfortably. He watched Lestat react to Armand’s obviously still shocked state. He glanced over at Armand and gestured him to sit in a chair as well.

Lestat’s heart felt like it was clenched in a fist, and suddenly he had no idea what to say. He listened to what Armand’s mind revealed for a moment, then focused on Gregory. “You gave him healing blood,” he said quietly. It wasn’t really a question. He could tell from the sheen of Armand’s skin, how obviously he was recovering from terrible injury.

“Of course,” Gregory said. “Santh kept him topped off on healing blood.”

Armand drew further into himself, his battered and dirty curls falling into his eyes. He didn’t want to talk. In this moment, he felt an utter shell of himself. He did not want Lestat’s scrutiny or pity.

Lestat nodded a little, though he wasn’t sure he approved of Santh’s choice. What was the point of torture if it was all just immediately healed and undone? But it wasn’t like they had any rules for this sort of thing. They’d completely bent the law for this, and Lestat had to trust Gregory would do the right thing. At least it was clear the psychological effects had an impact. Lestat could see this the more he stared at Armand. He knew he should remain professional and distant, but he couldn’t bear it, so he crossed and sat beside Armand. Lestat put his fingertips to his jaw, lifting his face to see him better. “I should have just exiled you,” he said, his voice full of regret.

Gregory frowned a little at Armand’s failure to be more interactive, but he wasn’t going to chastise him here. It was always a little difficult to switch from total dominance over a subject to letting them go and be their own being again with free-will.

“He’s just in some shock. He’ll come back around,” Gregory said softly. “Don’t question your decision, Lestat. He had three choices, and he said he preferred the last option.”

Lestat met Gregory’s eyes, letting the authoritative tone of his words sink in, and he nodded just a little.

“I had thought to ask for exile,” Armand murmured. “On the last night. But something stopped me.” He briefly locked eyes with Lestat before looking away in some sort of shame. He brought his arms further around himself, as if the ancient blood and the new clothes had done nothing to warm him. “I am sorry…that I sought to kill David. I am sorry I caused you such anguish.”

Lestat desperately wanted to pull Armand into an embrace, to comfort the shattered thing he saw before him. But he was also afraid if he did, Armand would crack all the further. His thumb brushed over Armand’s cheek before he let his hand fall away. The sheer sincerity of Armand’s apology made it almost more painful to listen to than if the words had been hollow. Lestat hated that Gregory’s method had worked. This was not the type of government Lestat wanted to lead. Not at all.

Gregory felt a bit of pride at how docile and contrite Armand was being here, but after four nights beating him down over and over, Gregory didn’t trust Armand’s sincerity. He said nothing though, just lightly drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair and narrowed his eyes, watching Armand very closely.

“There is one more thing you must do,” Lestat said to Armand softly. “Before it is truly over.”

Hunt? Sleep? Just continue to live his life? All of this before it was truly over. Because it would never be truly over. Armand would feel the repercussions of this for centuries to come. “What is it?” he murmured.

“You must write it down,” Lestat said somberly. “Not now, but soon. Next week, perhaps. Or dictate it. Have Daniel help you. But it must be in your own words.” After all, what was the point of putting Armand through this horrible experience if no one else truly understood the extent of it?

As a punishment, as a deterrent to keep the other members of their tribe from committing crimes, this torture absolutely must be understood by all. Lestat didn’t really care how accurate or extensive what Armand wrote ended up being, but he needed to have something to show as proof of it all. Otherwise it would all be wasted…

Gregory tilted his head a little and looked at Lestat. “You want him to write down what we did to him the past four nights? Why don’t you just search his mind for it? I promise you, we were thorough. I don’t think I need my techniques out there in the public, or they cease to be effective.”

Lestat shook his head a little. It wasn’t the techniques that mattered. It was their impact. Armand’s mentality was what needed to be recorded. “I believe you. It is not for my benefit,” he explained. If Armand wanted to open his mind to someone else to have them write it for him, that was fine. But Lestat would not be that person.

Armand shook his head before he could stop himself. He had already lived through this, would have to live with it for years and years to come. How could he force himself to recount it, even to another? Even through his mind? The very notion sent his stomach churning, and he felt very suddenly nauseous, and he had his hand over his mouth just in the nick of time to catch the blood vomit projecting out of it.

Gregory swiftly grabbed Armand by the scruff of his collar and dragged him over to a trash can to vomit in. He cursed under his breath at this scene, then glanced at Lestat. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “Like I said, he’s still in shock. It’s kind of a private thing, torture. You know? But if you want it recounted for the record…” Gregory shrugged a bit. “I’m sure he’ll do what you order.”

Lestat knew it was a terrible thing to ask, and his heart ached for all Armand had gone through. As Gregory tended to him, Lestat moved away from the spilled blood.

His anger was simmering again, anger at both of them for putting him in this position to begin with, though he did his best to keep it down. Once Armand had calmed again and Gregory had gotten him into a fresh seat, Lestat spoke, fighting to keep his voice from wavering. “You both know that I violated the laws Marius wrote to make this work.” Marius had been exceedingly upset about this fact when he’d come to Lestat after the trial the other night. “And some of the others know this as well. We can’t let it have been for nothing. I’m sorry for it, but writing it down is necessary.”

Armand sighed and nodded, visibly trembling now. He’d not meant to refuse Lestat’s orders initially, it had been a knee jerk reaction. “I will do it,” he murmured, edging away from Gregory. He was furious with him for having gotten him by his neck like that, having brought him to the trash can like some mongrel pup. Armand was no longer Gregory’s to toy with. He did not own him, and he needed to understand that.

Gregory noted Armand’s slow inching away from him and resisted a strong urge to reach over and scruff him again. “Sit still,” he murmured and then regretted it, because he knew better. Once he got away from Armand, he would be able to get his default Gregory persona back, but it was hard to switch over with the one he’d spent the past four nights tormenting sitting right there beside him still.

Gregory turned his attention back to Lestat. “I understand you went around the laws Marius wrote because of my last minute decision to throw torture in the mix. I’m sorry, Lestat. I know you disliked that. I noticed, however, that Marius himself didn’t come out there to stop me from doing it. I know he’s here in the Castle still.”

Lestat nodded. Everyone had noticed that fact. Ultimately, he was glad Marius hadn’t done anything to make this even harder on them all. Once the sentence had been given, outside the law as it was, Marius had let it stand. But Lestat still dreaded the inevitable rift this would cause. “Perhaps he’ll amend the laws officially,” he said in a defeated tone.

He studied Armand a minute more, silently evaluating the results of this endeavor. Lestat had so much more he felt he needed to say to him, but he did not have the heart for it now. “Thank you, Armand,” he said eventually, his voice quiet. “You are free to go.”

“Thank you…” he murmured sincerely to Lestat before bolting for the door and leaving. Armand had never moved so fast. If not for Lestat, he wouldn’t have stayed as long as he did. He needed to get away from Gregory now. It was a compulsion, to put as much distance between himself and Gregory as possible, in case he decided to keep up this dreadful persona for the rest of time.

Gregory watched Armand disappear out the door fast as a jackrabbit. He raised a brow at Lestat. “He doesn’t like me anymore.”

As he looked Lestat over, he remembered their pervious conversation, in which Lestat seemed to be admitting an urge to bury himself again. “Are you feeling well?” Gregory asked with real concern. “I’m sorry this was a lot of pressure on you. It’s over now.”

Lestat pulled his eyes from the door to glance at Gregory, but only briefly, as if looking at him were painful. He stood and moved away from the couch, shaking his head dismissively. He was not feeling well at all, but he wasn’t about to admit that. “It doesn’t feel like it’s over,” he said with trepidation. “Thank you,” he added, though it sounded hollow. “I know it was a lot of work for you as well.”

Gregory sighed, knowing Lestat was probably not giving him a truthful answer. “You’re mad at me again,” he stated. “I know you hate the thought of what I was doing the past nights. I’m not sure why you have this strong aversion to it, though. You who chop the arm off a fellow vampire in front of a table of witnesses. Or pluck the eyeballs out and eat them. And I know you burn renegades who enter your home in New Orleans. We are not mortals, Lestat; we are blood-drinkers. Sometimes we need this type of painful punishment to reinforce lessons. Why does this bother you?”

“Because it’s _Armand_!” Lestat shouted, and with a violent sweep of his hand, knocked everything off the top of the bookshelf, sending the items crashing to the ground. He knew this feeling was a double standard, but he didn’t care. It mattered to him. The whole reason he’d become prince was because he didn’t want to be ruled by anyone else, didn’t want to be bound to rules he disagreed with. And yet it happened anyway! What was even the point?

Gregory calmly watched Lestat’s outburst. “So your friends should not receive the same treatment as the rest of the vampire community. That’s a dangerous standard, and you know it.” He wanted to go on about how Armand, above all, needed the lesson he got, but he didn’t want to dig into that right now. “I will never suggest torture again, if that’s how you want it. Gods know I’ve got enough to deal with on my own as it is.” Gregory noticed a bit of dried blood under his nails that he’d missed when washing up. “Do you want to rail at me about it some more? I am here to take it.”

But this wasn’t just about Armand being Lestat’s friend or David being his fledgling. There was so much more to it than that. The fact that they all lived these public lives now and had to make examples of each other as if they weren’t people anymore, but symbols. It was too much!

Lestat looked back at Gregory over his shoulder, his eyes dark and angry. He felt so far away from him right now, like a vast abyss was stretched between them that Lestat had no idea how to cross. But Gregory’s patronizing tone made Lestat hold his tongue against any further outbursts.

Gregory ducked his head into his hands for a moment. He was not going to cause another rift with Lestat. It seemed he was too good at that lately. “Lestat, I don’t want you angry with me. I’m saying all the wrong words again. I still have this blood under my nails, and I’m vibrating from the past four nights. I have to come down. I’m just going to walk away slowly from this.”

He stood and moved to exit, but first went to Lestat and kissed his cheek. “I do love you, no matter how angry you are with me. I love you.” Gregory left the office.

Once he was gone, Lestat felt incredibly alone in a way that struck him deeply and practically left him shaking. He stared at the mess on the floor for a long quiet moment before turning away from it and going to the window. Beyond it, the trees on the mountain were swaying in the summer wind, and he stared at them for a very long time.

\-------------------

Armand had bee-lined for Daniel. Wordlessly, he slipped through the door of Daniel’s chambers. Wordlessly, he looked to his fledgling, wanting to put on a brave face but not having the strength to.

Daniel looked up from the book he’d been trying to read for three hours. Armand looked ready to faint. A thin trail of blood clung to the front of his shirt, and sweat beaded his hairline, though he looked otherwise clean.

“Armand”, Daniel breathed, throwing his book and rushing to embrace him. He immediately thought better of this, though, as he caught sight of the blistered skin around Armand’s forearms.

Armand looked up at him for a moment, then looked away, unwilling to burden Daniel with the weight of his traumas. God damn it, he wanted to be held, despite his burns. He walked to the nearest couch and sat upon it, curling into himself wordlessly.

Daniel followed only a step behind, and sat as near to him on the couch as he dared. Despite looking scrubbed, Armand’s hair had not been washed, his curls a mess, and Daniel reached out to touch them with his fingertips. “Armand, now is not the time to have to be strong for me,” he said softly. “I’ve waited for you this whole time.”

Armand pulled away, breath hitching with tears, and he stifled them with his hand as they overflowed. He couldn’t be strong, not anymore, and Daniel was filled with so much love that he didn’t deserve.

Daniel, in typical Daniel fashion, just said to himself, _fuck it_. He took Armand’s shoulders gently to ease him around and pulled himself delicately around Armand’s frame. “You don’t have to talk. You don’t have to tell me anything,” he said, succeeding in keeping himself from shaking. “But you’re home with me now, and you’re safe with me.” _And I_ _’ll never start shit with anyone ever again,_ he added to himself.

Armand nodded, burying his face in the crook of Daniel’s neck, letting his tears soak into his skin, his clothes. He sobbed weakly. “Hawaii…” he murmured brokenly. He needed to get away from here. Safe with Daniel, yes. Even though he wasn’t. Not really. Daniel could do nothing if Santh and Gregory barged in now to take his him for another four nights.

“We can go, love,” Daniel told him, holding just a little tighter. “It’s no trouble for us to book a suite when were there. You flash those cards of yours and tip in hundreds…but we might need to travel the modern way, babe. You’re still recovering, and I can’t fly. “

Armand sagged against Daniel, defeated, the tears still streaming down his face. Go to Hawaii, and what? In his state? Even cleaned up, he would have his burns. A child flaunted on the arm of a thirty-something, with severe injuries? “We have to stay for now,” he murmured. “What did you do while I was gone?”

“I hunted,” said Daniel quietly, because it was true and because he hoped it would give his maker some morsel of delight. “I hitched rides with elders to Paris and London where I could be unnoticed, took a night… I’ve fed, Armand, and you look so shaky still…”

It did give Armand a small amount of relief to find this out. He adored his Daniel in full health, and so he sighed heavily at what Daniel was insinuating and shook his head. “I won’t do it, so drop the idea this instant. I’ve had blood from Santh.”

Daniel wanted to know why. He wanted to pitch a fit on it, but this wasn’t the time.

 _So those bastards gave him blood after doing who knows what to him? How kind_ , he thought derisively and was glad Armand’s mind was closed to him. As much as he wanted to console his lover, he wasn’t sure he was ready yet to know what happened. “Ok…ok, Boss. A bath then? Let me wash your hair and comb it out for you. Or we could just clip it all off and start fresh.”

Armand recoiled at the thought. He very rarely clipped his hair this century anyway, and particularly in this moment, he felt to lose it to this would be some triumph on their part. Never mind that it would grow back by tomorrow. “A bath…a bath sounds fine. I’ve been thinking of it, you know. Of you and a warm bath.”

 _Good, yes, thank God something to do, something to accomplish_! ….God, Daniel needed new hobbies.

He took Armand’s hand and led him to his bathroom, sitting him on a plush seat by the counter and filling the tub. They didn’t need soaps or oils or anything, but Daniel liked the smells and the effects on the water and had a collection. Something bright, orange or lemon, something with a clear and distracting scent—

He paused, looking at Armand’s skin. “Will the hot water or soap hurt your burns more?”

“I don’t care. I need a bath,” Armand said absently, feeling far more fragile than he would have done for all the love that Daniel was showering him with now. In all honesty, it probably would hurt his burns. But he would live.

Daniel nodded, and came over to help get Armand undressed. He carried himself stiffly, and Daniel soon saw why. He had no open wounds, but there was scarring and half-healed cuts all over his torso, red puckered areas that looked like stab wounds, as well as more burns.

But Daniel didn’t say a damn thing. He kept his mouth closed, and offered his arm around Armand to help him into the tub, wondering if it would be in bad taste to join him, or if Armand would feel more ashamed to be bathed like a damned child with Daniel still dressed and dry.

“I should have just gone to my room,” Armand murmured, picking up on Daniel’s horror even without reading his mind. He drew his knees to his chest and buried his head in them, not wanting to ask Daniel to join, but wanting nothing more than to be held in that moment. Why should he want to join? Armand was a marred and twisted mockery of himself.

Daniel was already slipping out of his shirt, undoing the buckle of his belt and sliding from the rest of his clothes. “Aight, scoot back, you can’t just sit in the middle of the tub curled up like an emo hedgehog. I got legs for days, make room.”

Armand did as asked, lips quirking into a tiny smile at Daniel’s attempt at humor. _Emo hedgehog_ …what did that even mean? He looked up at Daniel, treating him to a proper little laugh now. “Legs for days indeed, that’s why I chose you..”

Daniel scoffed, and rolled his eyes hard. “Sure, you loved these fine legs and my beefcake physique,” he teased at his own expense. Though honestly, he’d weighed about 40 pounds more when they’d first met, and didn’t look like he was rode hard and hung up wet. He’d made a handsome enough twenty-something before their decade together, and Armand appreciated beauty as much as any vampire, but Daniel knew that was hardly all of it.

Didn’t matter, though. He tangled his legs among Armand’s own, around his hips, and bent closer. “Can I kiss you? Are you ok with that?”

Armand nodded. He wanted it, wanted a kiss that was tender, and not lecherous. His mind flashed back to Gregory’s bloody kisses, so heated, so demanding. He felt a twitch of something within him then, and he nodded again. “Yes. But…thank you for asking.”

Daniel nodded; he was worried over Armand and what this was going to do for what sense if autonomy he’d reclaimed. He rarely admitted it, but Daniel could read it in the pages of Armand’s book, in the way he drew away from some men.

Leaning forward, he kept his kiss as chaste as possible at first, just brushing his lips to Armand’s and giving him plenty of room to pull away.

Armand pressed his lips to Daniel’s, returning the kiss with a little fervor and passion before pulling away entirely and shaking his head. He felt incredibly guilty for it, but he had pushed himself too far too quickly, and he thought again on Gregory’s own kisses. “Perhaps no kisses. I am sorry.”

“Hey, hey babe, it’s ok.” Daniel pulled away slowly, somehow afraid of startling Armand, afraid to frighten him. He kept his movements cautious and slow. “Are you still ok with me being here, touching you? I can get out and dressed if you need me to…” He hesitated for a moment, unsure if this would offend Armand but… “But I’m not going to leave you alone right now, ok?”

“Don’t go.” Armand nodded his concurrence, and folded his arms around himself again. He winced as the water hit his burns, but he shrugged it off; it was unfair for Daniel to always have to fret about him like this. “If you really want to stay, I want you here.”

“I’m here as long as you want me, Boss,” he said, and gave his best smile for Armand.

They couldn’t read one another’s thoughts, but they didn’t need to. With soft features and only a whisper of words, Daniel got Armand to turn around and dip his head back, letting the water seep into his hair. Of course, all the dirt and dried sweat could have just been brushed out, and he could finger twist his curls back into their proper spirals, but having a wash just seemed so much better. They both loved a hot soak. As he bent Armand’s neck though, Daniel had to keep his lips closed tightly to not gasp at the healing cuts and stab wounds all around his throat.

\-----------------------

Gregory had been wanting a private office at the chateau to conduct his business affairs during his visits for some time now. The last thing he’d expected upon his return from four nights of service as the court’s new official torturer was that the construction of this room would be complete.

Lestat’s fledgling and pet architect Alain had done an excellent job at Lestat’s instruction in creating the perfect space for Gregory’s needs. Gregory was just getting settled in and making the most of it with catching up on the work emails he’d missed over the past few days when he heard a light, respectful knock on the door.

He looked up from his laptop and sensed who was on the other side of the door. This was a person he was not looking forward to speaking with at all. “Marius. Come in, please.”

Marius entered the room. “Torture?” he inquired, skipping the pleasantries. “Do the laws I wrote not matter any longer?”

Gregory stood up politely, straightening his suit tie and smiling a bit. “Good evening, Marius. An entire hearing was held before the council. The laws were looked at. In fact, every one of your extremely wordy Roman paragraphs were read repeatedly by myself and Lestat and other elders. Torture was my add-on.” Gregory gestured to a seat, if Marius would like to have one.

Marius took the seat. “Armand is not a good candidate for torture.” He hid his anger well.

Gregory resumed his seat behind his desk and crossed one leg over the other, hands steepled. “You understand this has already happened, Marius. You were invited to that hearing. We were all curious as to why you were not present to help us understand the laws better. We ultimately came down to three options. Ten years imprisonment with a fine paid to the victim. Exile from the court. Lastly, four nights of torture. Armand himself preferred the final option, and the council agreed.” Gregory shrugged lightly. “It was the option that had the quickest conclusion.”

“The laws are written in such a way that you should not need my presence to help you understand them. That is the point of this government we have created. That is why they are written. The laws are completely clear. The laws are meant to outlast any one of us so that our tribe has all it needs to endure. You _changed_ the laws.” Marius paused, trying to remain composed. “But since you have, what about torture as an option for your beloved Fareed? The doctor brought illness upon our kind. An illness which nearly took Louis and Armand.”

Gregory narrowed his eyes a bit at Marius. “Now Marius, you know what Fareed did was an accident. Not at all intentional on his part,” he said calmly. “ _My_ beloveds are not slicing the throats and bashing heads in of fellow blood drinkers,” Gregory clarified. “In front of a great number of impressionable fledglings, I might add.”

“I do not doubt what Fareed did was an accident. But accidents have consequences. Manslaughter is still a felony.” Marius kept his tone even.

Gregory shrugged a little once more and made a gesture of it all being out of his hands. “I’m sorry for all of this mess, Marius. And I wish I could turn the clock back on it all. It is done, though. Santh and I spent four nights with Armand… It’s done. He’s with Daniel now, as far as I know.”

Marius was grateful for the information of Armand’s whereabouts, but did not let that show. “If this breaks him further, I will be back to continue this conversation.” He paused. “And maybe Fareed should be brought to trial,” he added.

“Armand is going to be broken, Marius,” Gregory said. “I broke him. Repeatedly.” He didn’t want to sugarcoat it or let Marius think it was not actual torture that he and Santh had done out there.

Marius’s expression cracked. “Do you know how difficult it was to bring him to a good place?” he asked, his voice very low. “His life was torture. What you’ve done has crossed a line.” He exhaled. “I need to find him.”

Gregory nodded in understanding. “Well, he didn’t seem entirely a stranger to it.” Gregory left out his next thoughts, that Armand was quite lovely when he bled. “I’m sure he will need all the support you and Daniel can give him right now.”

“I know he’s pretty,” Marius said, showing that he had picked up on Gregory’s thought. “Have a good evening Gregory,” he said icily before leaving the office.

Gregory let a breath out as Marius shut the door behind him. Thankfully, that hurdle was over. He looked out the window of this, his new office in one of the smaller towers of the castle. He thought about Marius’s threats to Fareed. And then he wondered if Armand would recover from the four nights. And what about Lestat? He was angry with Gregory again. And Chrysanthe was texting him every other minute about the new grand house she was setting up for them in Versailles.

Gregory’s laptop made a small chiming, which meant his next video meeting with his corporate heads was coming online. He sighed and turned back to his work.

\-----------------------

_Text conversation between Gregory and Fareed_

Gregory: Are you still safe? Don’t come back here yet.

Fareed: I thought you wanted me back.

Gregory: I don’t want you around the others right now. Stay where you are. :thumbsup: :detective: :rose:

Fareed: Okay…:confused:

Gregory: Thx. Love you.

Fareed: Love you too…I miss you

Gregory: Do you? I miss you as well. I will come visit you where you are soon.

Fareed: I do. You’ve always been good to me.

\----------------------------

Marius thought about his conversations with Daniel the other night and Gregory tonight, and he knew two things. One, he needed to find Armand, and two, he owed Daniel something of an apology. So he approached Daniel’s door and knocked, holding two bunches of flowers in his other hand.

Armand pulled himself out of the bath water with immediate effect, feeling very much under attack, as if Gregory were behind the door. He tried to read the thoughts of the blood drinker, but couldn’t, and his mind raced Gregory or Santh, either of whom could well conceal their thoughts and as such their intentions to whisk him away. He looked to Daniel with wide eyes.

Daniel grimaced, reaching for a towel. “Don’t be scared babe. It’s Marius,” he said with a sigh, and began to towel at his hair. He hadn’t seen Marius since he’d painted those words on his door. Huh, maybe he was gonna drag Daniel out for a public lashing.

Armand sighed with relief and nodded, curling in on himself. What a perfect turn of events, his Marius and his Daniel, a wonderful buffer of protection against the shadows of this castle. “Come in,” he mumbled.

Marius walked through Daniel’s room into the bathroom. He looked at the two men. He set one bouquet of black roses next to Armand on the side of the tub. Their fragrance filled the steamy room.

Armand touched the flowers gently and offered a weak smile in return. He would never be worse off for seeing his maker’s face, and this bouquet was a lovely gesture, but Armand had very few words at this moment in time. “Thank you,” he murmured, not meeting Marius’s eye as he brought his knees to his chest again. For what could Marius see in him, in this moment?

The other bouquet of blue lilies remained in Marius’s hand as he focused on Daniel. “A lying cockwaffle? In my most expensive paint?”

Daniel stood a few steps back, having just stepped into track pants before being completely dry; not comfortable. He eyed Marius coldly, but contained himself for Armand’s benefit. Armand needed Marius around after what he’d gone through. “…I’m a man of words, Marius. Colorful words.”

Marius raised a brow, but for Armand’s sake, he didn’t fan the flames. He exhaled softly and rather than say anything further, he gave Daniel the blue flowers before turning back to Armand. Marius knelt beside the tub and gently caressed him. “Caro mío,” he whispered.

“I am fine…” Armand murmured, Marius’s touch like a soothing balm to him as he sat in the water. He wasn’t fine, of course, but Marius was not his father, and he did not need to burden himself with such things. Armand continued to look into the water, how it distorted his fresh scars and his burns, before inhaling and exhaling once. “Really, I am.”

Marius was not convinced. “It’s alright not to be fine,” he soothed. “But I will not force you to speak of it.”  
  
Daniel slunk to the door, not caring that his shirt stuck to him as much as his pants did and that his hair was dripping everywhere. This was a time for those two, and he’d rather not get slapped again. Silently, he left his rooms and went to hide in one of the salons downstairs.

Marius continued to gently caress Armand. “How can I make this better?”

“You can’t,” Armand murmured, feeling very much in this moment as if this sort of treatment was his lot in life. A dramatic stance to take when he’d brought this upon himself, chosen it himself, but it fully seemed that way as he stared at his marred arms. And through all of it, he’d managed to retain the ring Marius had given him. Would he take it back now? How could he still want Armand after how he’d behaved?

And hearing those words hurt Marius. He wanted to be here for Armand, to somehow relieve his suffering. Was there truly nothing he could do? No place for him now that Gregory had broken his beloved again?

“But the roses are gorgeous,” Armand said. “You’re really very sweet.” He smiled, reaching for a towel and standing.

Marius withdrew and watched him from the floor. “Would you like some blood?” he offered, hoping it would help the healing process.

Armand didn’t need it, not truly. He’d had more than enough ancient blood, enough to make him sick on it, despite the fact that his Marius’s was always a nectar to him. He shook his head, wrapping the towel around himself. “No.”  
  
So not even that? Not even his blood.  
  
“But will you hold me?” Armand asked.

“Always,” he replied, trying not to let his voice hitch. Something about the way Armand spoke made it sound like they both knew it would their last time. He coaxed Armand down into his arms and pressed gentle kisses to his round cheek and neck.

Armand sighed, allowing Marius these kisses before nuzzling into his strong neck and pressing his own kisses there.

“I love you,” Marius whispered. “I’m sorry.” He allowed himself to feel guilty. If he had come to the hearing, if it hadn’t seemed too unbearably painful for him to witness his beloved on trial, knowing it would result in losing Armand to exile, could Marius have stopped Gregory and Lestat from changing his laws? Why had Marius ever trusted them?

“My crime was my own, my love,” Armand said. “And my punishment my own. I chose it, and there was nothing you could do to prevent it.”

 _Nothing_. Truly nothing, then. And, like a fool, Marius had thought Armand’s exile would be the worst possible outcome. And he’d been so angry with Armand for making it necessary. But _this_ _…this_ was so much worse.

“I don’t blame you in any regard,” Armand murmured against his maker’s neck.

Yes, Armand had made this choice himself. And so Gregory had broken him.   
  
And now, even though he was not exiled, Marius’s Armand was gone.


	26. Understanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lestat opens up to Gregory about his existential crisis and the impact of Louis's distance.

Lestat tapped the door of Gregory’s private office. It was a polite gesture even though he knew Gregory would have sensed him coming long before he got there. He let himself in and took a seat before Gregory’s desk. Lestat slid halfway down in it, his elbows holding him up by the chair’s arms, his hands clasped over his chest, and he looked Gregory over as if he were trying to decide what to do with him.

Gregory smiled brightly as Lestat slumped down in his chair as if it were not even a chair at all. Gregory slid his laptop to the side so he could concentrate only on Lestat. “Hello, there.” He sat still and let Lestat eyeball him. “How are you tonight? I want to thank you for this office. Alain did a superb job on it. Right down to the furnishings, don’t you think?”

Lestat’s eyes lifted, glancing around to take in the room as if seeing it for the first time, even though that wasn’t the case. “Yes,” he murmured. “I’ve always adored his taste in all things. I’m glad you like it, too. But please change anything about it you might want. You won’t offend him. He’s already onto his next project.”

Gregory sensed a great heaviness in Lestat this evening and felt concerned. He tried to scan his mind for what might be the issue now, but came up against a blank wall.

“No, I wouldn’t change a thing. He’s very talented.” Gregory tilted his head and watched Lestat quietly. “Is something on your mind that you want to talk about? You seem…weighted down.”

“No,” Lestat said petulantly. He didn’t _want_ to talk about anything at all. He wanted to go take a nap. But talking needed to be done, so he sighed and met Gregory’s eyes again, shaking his head a little apologetically. “I’ve judged you rather harshly, haven’t I?” he said more as if he were asking himself than Gregory.

Gregory leaned forward and rested his arms on the desk before him. “I don’t know… Maybe you judged me just right.” Gregory smiled warmly at him. “Chrysanthe judges me constantly. She’s very judgey. I like it. I don’t take offense from it. How have you judged me?”

Lestat considered that suggestion even as the warmth of Gregory’s smile disturbed him. That Gregory could take all these troubling matters in stride so easily, treat them so lightly…it said something about him that emphasized just how different he and Lestat truly were. “You never used to frighten me,” he admitted, straightening up in his seat a little.

Gregory dropped the smile. Well that stung for some reason. “How have I frightened you? I don’t mean to.” He tried to think of what it could be. “Is this still about Armand’s punishment? I should have had Santh do all of it. I’m forever stained for you now, aren’t I?

Lestat shook his head, though he was troubled. The concept of someone being _stained_ didn’t align with his way of thinking. Lestat was entirely entrenched in the moment, he wasn’t even thinking about the future at all. “I suppose it doesn’t matter that you did it,” he said thoughtfully. It was more the fact that Gregory had even thought it was acceptable at all. “I don’t think I am capable of understanding you,” he said with true regret, coming to the heart of it.

Gregory frowned slightly. “You don’t have to understand me. I barely understand me sometimes.” He drummed his fingers lightly on the desk. “I want to help you. I think you think I’m some unmovable, unfeeling, stone being, but I’m not. I’m Gregory. I love working hard. I love my little family I’ve created. I love being alive and having an impact on the world, both mortal and immortal. I love you. I wish you were not so sad, Lestat. What is making you so sad?”

But Lestat _wanted_ to understand him. The core of Lestat’s capacity to love was built on understanding. There was no truer connection in existence.

Lestat wanted to deny Gregory’s question, say he wasn’t sad. But was he? He hadn’t been thinking of anything in terms of sadness…but did Gregory see something in him he’d missed himself?

Lestat shook his head again, not sure how to put it in better words. “I hold so many threads…to everything that is so dear to me. But it feels as though they are merely caught between my fingers, slipping from me, tangled… Too thin to grasp properly. They ought to be chains, really. Forged mighty, and formidable. But they’re hair-thin, these threads…”

Gregory had a flashback to his last meeting with Santh, so many thousands of years ago. When he’d been hopeless, and nothing Santh said could make him stay above ground any longer. He looked away from Lestat, at the paintings that had been chosen for this office, and then at the bookshelves and the various little decorations. He couldn’t stop this for Lestat anymore than Santh could for him, and it was a heavy feeling for him.

“Lestat, I know what that feeling is exactly. You can’t hold onto everything so tightly, you have to just let things go and lighten the burden that is on you. If you don’t, you will lose yourself entirely to the stress of it all. I worry greatly for you, Lestat, that you are speaking as I have in the past, just before I dug down into the Earth. What are these threads you are trying to untangle? Your children? Louis? David? The others?”

Yes. And more. “But these things shouldn’t be a _burden_. They—” Lestat sighed and sank back in his chair. It wasn’t even that they did feel like a burden. That wasn’t the right word. It wasn’t a weight. It was an…inability to touch the ground. Like he’d fly up too high and float off into space and circle the earth like a satellite, unable to ever touch down again.

But Gregory had mentioned his children and fledglings. “Yes, of course…” They were the ones Lestat wanted to cling to the tightest, but despite that, they ran like water through his fingers. “And all of this.” He lifted his hands gesturing to the castle around them and the court it contained, perhaps even the entire world beyond that. “I have this…this voice in my head, this desperate urge. And all it wants is _escape_. But not from them, from my loved ones, not from home or from court, not from our kind… Not from any one thing at all. I don’t know what it means. It makes no sense to me. Except maybe…maybe escape from…myself.”

Gregory stood and went around the desk. He sat in the chair beside Lestat’s and put a hand on his arm. “You feel like what is there to even hold you to anything anymore? Like you belong to nothing and it’s all just the same endless night over and over?” Gregory sat quietly beside him. “I can care for all of this for a while, if you want to just go sleep in the crypts. I will wake you up if anything important needs your attention. I will take care of David for you. Make sure Louis is safe too.”

It was such a tempting offer. There had been so many nights lately where Lestat hadn’t risen from his crypt until the night was half over. More than one where he hadn’t even risen at all. But could he take this offer? He shook his head. “They would never forgive me…” Louis and David, especially.

Gregory tried to think of something to help Lestat. “I can offer you my blood. You always perk up some after you drink from me.” He tilted his head, trying to catch Lestat’s eye and to get some sort of emotion from him that wasn’t this lethargy.

Blood never failed to get Lestat’s attention, and he looked up through his eyelashes at Gregory with surprise. “That’s…not why I came here,” he tried to explain, as if afraid Gregory thought he was fishing for it.

Gregory smiled genuinely, because it seemed he was at least getting some reaction from Lestat that wasn’t this blankness. “I know that’s not why you came. I’m offering to comfort you because you seem in need of it.”

Comfort? Was that what Lestat needed? If he were speaking to anyone else, he would have been much more immediately dismissive. But he knew Gregory could see into his soul in the way few others could or even cared to. Lestat had to consider everything Gregory said as if it were spoken by some true oracle. And it filled Lestat with immense loneliness that he couldn’t understand Gregory in this same way.

“You have always been so…generous,” Lestat said thoughtfully, and reached out to brush his fingers over the lapel of Gregory’s jacket. “If I fell completely apart, you would pick up all my pieces, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course I would,” Gregory smiled gently. He slid from his chair to the floor and knelt in front of Lestat, placing his hands on the arms of Lestat’s chair and tilting his head such that he was an offering. “I am generous because I’m devoted to you, and I know you are weary and in need of this connection.”

Lestat straightened, moving his feet to either side of Gregory’s knees and he gazed down at him in wonder. Shifting forward, Lestat took his face between his hands. “I would rather you did it because you desired me,” he admitted, though how could he possibly refuse such an offer? He knew he wouldn’t.

Gregory felt his heart skip a beat at that. He forgot sometimes to express this to those he shared his blood with.

He gave Lestat a raise of one brow, ducked his head and looked up with dark eyes. “Of course I desire you, my love,” he breathed softly, sliding his hands up Lestat’s arms.

Lestat’s pulse quickened, and the pressure of Gregory’s hands made his thirst spike. Tipping his face down, he put his mouth to Gregory’s throat, shuddering at the heady scent of him. His lips parted against his warm browned skin, his tongue tracing the vein there before finally letting his fangs sink in. The richness of Gregory’s blood shot a live wire straight into Lestat’s brain, and he drew it rapturously.

Gregory let his head fall against Lestat, his hands gripping his biceps, his eyes closing as he sank into the pleasure of this embrace, feeling and hearing Lestat’s heart as it pulled on his. How Gregory loved him, and all his bravado and charm and strength, and he sent this to Lestat in the blood.

Gregory slid his hands down to Lestat’s waist, wrapping strong arms around and pulling him closer and almost out of the chair altogether.

Lestat was so lost in the swoon of the blood and the sweetness of the love carried in it that he let Gregory pull him easily. His heart responded to it all, swelling with love for Gregory, with gratitude for having someone he didn’t have to always be the strong one for. Someone who really would allow him the freedom to fall apart if he needed to. The feeling gave a little bit of slack to all the wires in him that felt so close to snapping.

As Lestat took more and more, Gregory pulled him completely out of the chair, down onto his lap and let his own head lay against Lestat’s shoulder. He too was drowning in the pleasure, and sent more and more of his love, comfort and acceptance to Lestat. He slid one hand up to cup the back of Lestat’s head, encouraging him to drink as much as he wanted; knowing Lestat would just pass out from it eventually if he continued.

One of his hands stayed against Gregory’s head, clutching into his hair, and Lestat’s other arm moved fully around his shoulders, crushing Gregory against him as he straddled his lap. Lestat had the thought that he ought to stop, that he shouldn’t overstay his welcome, but the encouragement coming from Gregory made him linger.

Lestat moaned with the sheer release, the freedom of the feeling, and he drank until he couldn’t possibly swallow another drop, and then his head rolled against Gregory’s shoulder. His arms tightened around him, not ready to let Gregory go, his mind feeling afire with electricity. For the moment, Lestat couldn’t remember at all where he was or why he’d come, just that he was with Gregory, who loved him, and that meant everything was going to be all right.

Gregory lifted Lestat’s head from his shoulder and kissed his forehead and then his lips. He laughed a little, enjoying watching his blissed out state as he held his head in his hands. “Are you okay,” he asked gently. “Do you need me to lay you out on the floor to dry out,” he teased.

“Yes,” Lestat said, though he wasn’t being serious, giving a faintly delirious smile. “Lay me out in this beautiful room with its magnificent carpet and perfect furniture.”

Gregory considered the floor, but decided to take him over to the couch against the wall instead. He lifted Lestat up easily and walked him over to it, lying him down. He sat on the edge beside him and waited, patient and quiet, as Lestat seemed so relaxed. Gregory didn’t want to interrupt his thoughts with anything upsetting.

The sudden movement took Lestat’s breath away and next thing he knew he was staring up at the ceiling. Turning his head, his eyes found Gregory, and he lifted a hand to touch his face admiringly. It took a long time for his senses to begin to stabilize, but Lestat was in no rush. How wonderful would it be if blood really could be the solution to all his troubles? Well, at least it worked for the moment.

“I’m trying to be good,” Lestat said, as if making a confession, though what exactly he meant by it was unclear even to his own mind.

Gregory smoothed a lock of pale hair from Lestat’s forehead and laid an open hand against his chest, feeling the strong beat of his heart beneath it. “Good for who?” he asked with a gentle smile.

The question surprised him, and Lestat frowned a little as he thought about it for a long moment. “Our tribe,” he said eventually, feeling that was probably the truest answer. “Or maybe the world…”

“You don’t have to try so hard.” Gregory leaned over Lestat and kissed him lingeringly, simply because he was there, all relaxed and satiated and not being too hard to understand.

Lestat’s hand move around to the back of Gregory’s head, holding him there to return the kiss, all the blood he’d swallowed rising in him warmly in reaction. In a way, Lestat felt like he could drift off to sleep, but in another way, he felt like he could get up and dance around the room.

When he broke the kiss, he looked into Gregory’s eyes, so dark and ancient and unfathomable, and Lestat felt the rushing desire to pour himself out to him. “I kept thinking…” he began as he shifted up a little to sit. “Thinking that if I went into the ground, you’d just find me and dig me up…drag me right back here. You or Marius or anyone else who thought this was where I needed to be. And thinking that I had to find a place…a way to do it where you could never reach me…”

Gregory nodded in understanding. “I would only dig you up if you had previously asked me to. I can’t speak for Marius.” He thought about a court without Lestat in it, and it didn’t feel right at all. “I don’t like the idea either way. I don’t know who we would place in your position if you were gone for a long time… I suppose, of course, we would just adapt, as we always do.” He touched Lestat’s cheek with the palm of his hand and caressed it. “You don’t worry about that. If you are so tired and must go into the earth, there is not much we can do to stop it. I will be here.”

Lestat nodded, leaning into Gregory’s touch with a soft sigh. Even if the others pushed for Lestat to be brought back, he trusted now he could count on Gregory to give more thought to it before anyone pulled Lestat in a direction he couldn’t go.

“I thought about going into the sea,” he continued. “Diving so deep down to where the sun no longer reaches. Would it be like being in the earth? Could my body withstand the pressure? Would all that water block my mind from you? Keep you from finding me? But I would have to find a way to stay down…weighted somehow. And then what if I grew so weak in my slumber that I couldn’t free myself when I was ready to wake? I was thinking about all this that night I went hunting in Palma de Mallorca…”

Gregory thought about this for a long time, unsure how to respond. He didn’t feel like it was wise to go underwater for a long sleep at all, but didn’t want to discourage Lestat’s instincts. “I have not heard of a vampire hibernating in that fashion. It seems to me Earth or deep down in a cave is better. I don’t know if I could relax enough to sleep so far below water, with the current and the strange fish.”

“I thought about bottleneck caves… The blue holes of the Caribbean, where I could lodge myself without weights and easily swim out when I was ready. So many of them are tourist attractions now, though. I might risk discovery. But if I found one in a place isolated enough…undiscovered.” Lestat shrugged a little, frowning to himself as he thought over what had happened in those three nights he got caught away from home. That iron machine he’d been trapped inside. He hadn’t had his phone, but he hadn’t been able to call out mentally either.

Lestat had imagined all sorts of scenarios to greet him upon his return, but none of them had occurred. The court hadn’t dissolved without him, the castle hadn’t crumbled, he’d barely even been missed at all. Perhaps all his worry and planning about avoiding being unearthed had been pointless from the start.

Gregory listened closely, nodding in understanding. “You can show me this location and I will never disclose it to another. And that way I will know you are safe. I will make sure mortals never touch it. I’ll buy the location. If I ever sense you wake up from your sleep and can’t escape it, I will come get you.”

Lestat smiled a little, halfway between amused and sad. His heart squeezed, touched again by the generosity of Gregory’s love. He took Gregory’s face between his hands and kissed him again, slowly and softly, and then ran his fingers back through his black hair.

“I won’t do it,” Lestat said quietly to clarify. “Not now, not yet… I don’t want to do it. I want to be here. To be…present. To keep all my threads between my fingers. But I know Louis is leaving me… Soon, I think. And I know when Louis leaves me, I won’t be able to stay present. Don’t worry about me now.” He sighed, his eyes growing distant. “Once Louis is gone, though…then I suppose that is when you had better watch out…”

Gregory frowned at this. He had not really been watching Louis that closely lately, but had noticed he was more distant than usual. Why were both of Lestat’s favorite children having meltdowns at once?

“I remember Chrysanthe went down into the Earth once, for about fifty years. Worst years of my current waking lifetime. Why are you both drifting away? Is he like you, wanting to go hibernate, or is it something else?”

Lestat shook his head. He didn’t know. Every time he thought he’d had Louis figured out, he seemed to be wrong. “Ever since he took that trip… His vacation from court. I didn’t mind that he took it, not at the time. But when he finally came back after months of being gone, it was as if he’d left part of himself behind. It wasn’t the full Louis who returned. And more and more of him fades each night. I can feel it. I asked him if it was this place, this business, the constant society, but he denied it.”

Gregory felt concerned over this news. He kissed Lestat’s forehead and held him for a minute. “I’m sorry, my love. And what about David? Is he better with the medicine from Kapetria?”

Lestat hesitated, unsure how to answer. “In some ways, yes… Louis’s distance has been difficult for him as well. I don’t know if it might be connected to the root of David’s whole malady.” He sighed again. “But the medication helps. If its effects last, I’ll let him start coming back down again.”

Gregory nodded. “Well, at least that’s positive news.” Over on his desk his phone made a sound, indicating another text from his wife. “Chrysanthe is setting up a house in Versailles,” he said offhandedly. “She’s obsessed with home decorating… Maybe I should have Alain contact her.”

Lestat would have told Gregory to link her with Armand instead if he hadn’t just spent four days torturing him. Alain was an architectural genius, but when it came to interior decoration, Lestat always greatly admired Armand’s choices. Between what he’d done with Trinity Gate and his string of rooms in his chateau apartment upstairs, Lestat had stolen many of Armand’s best ideas for his own rooms as well. “I want to see it,” he said genuinely. “When she has it done.” He knew Gregory would answer the phone if he wanted to. Lestat didn’t worry he was keeping Gregory from anything he’d rather be doing. Gregory’s attention was Lestat’s in this moment, and he meant to keep it as long as he wished.

Gregory smiled at Lestat. “May I ask you something? Why have you cancelled all court events for the year? We need court events to keep morale up, and the virus is no longer an issue.”

“Because Louis hates them,” he answered simply, even though that was only part of why he’d done it. “I didn’t want to give him any more reason than he already has to want to leave here again.”

“Well…it seems Louis is going to be hiding away anyway, whether there is an event in the ballroom or not…” Gregory smiled gently. “I think a social event might help you, Lestat. You are a social being and thrive on such things. Also, I like to get dressed up and mingle at such things.”

Gregory had a point…

The main reason Lestat had cancelled everything was because he had a feeling he wasn’t going to be around much longer, and he didn’t want to leave behind a calendar full of events for someone else to have to manage. He’d been trying to plan ahead for once, to be responsible. This was the same reason he’d given David all his passwords.

But planning just one event seemed doable… The idea had potential.

He shifted on the couch, sitting up more fully, and put his hands on Gregory’s waist, drawing him closer. “Are you asking me to throw you a party, Gregory?”

Gregory had not been asking that, but now that Lestat suggested it… He slid closer to Lestat, stretching one arm along the back of the couch so that he almost encircled him with it and the other hand lightly on Lestat’s shoulder, casual yet intimate. “Yes, you may throw me a party to celebrate…” He tried to think of an appropriate thing. “Celebrate my birthday. Although I honestly don’t know what my actual date of birth is by the current calendar system, but I think it could be soon. Like whenever you decide to set the date of the party.” He beamed at Lestat, liking this idea a lot. “And presents are fine too. I don’t know if I’ve ever even had a birthday party. I want balloons.”

Lestat laughed abruptly. “Well, then, it’s time you were due one!”

A vampire birthday party…what an idea. Lestat had certainly never celebrated his own birthday, even though he actually knew when it was. It was written in faded ink the ancient family ledger downstairs in the library. One of the last names in that book, only followed by his long dead nieces and nephews. He should add Viktor’s name to it…though he wasn’t in the mood to think about him right now after what he had done to hurt Rose.

No, better to think about this party Gregory wanted. Lestat shook his head, amused. “Balloons…” Sure. Why not? He’d cover the entire ballroom ceiling with shimmering inflated shapes of mylar. “What’s your favorite color?” he asked, his hands sliding up Gregory’s sides.

Gregory thought about it for a moment. “I like dark blue…and silver. I wish I could have a cake. I wonder what cake tastes like.” He tried to imagine it, but all he knew was the feel of cake and the smell of it. “Sometimes at business events, they have a cake, and they pass out plates of it, and I just hold it and smell it and imagine what it must be like.” Gregory felt ridiculous suddenly, sharing that information. He did it with his wife but with others he tended to keep that frivolity to a minimum.

But Lestat seemed accepting, and happy with this party idea even.

Lestat shook his head, touched by Gregory’s openness. He’d never had cake in his mortal life either. He’d been lucky to ever even get bread without grit in it. “I’ll have a cake made for you,” he said, only half seriously. “One of those cakes that’s too beautiful to eat anyway. We’ll put six thousand candles on it.”

“Yes, I want one of those cakes. But six thousand candles is a fire hazard. Just put six.”

Now it had become a challenge. Lestat would find a way to make six thousand candles happen. Perhaps not on the cake, but in the room itself. Candles would be everywhere. Candles and balloons and flowers, of course. Maybe Louis would even come to the party for a few minutes. He’d always liked candles. Lestat could dream…

Gregory kissed him again, slow and deep. “I cherish you,” he whispered. “Don’t go into the ground.”

The kiss made Lestat’s heartbeat race, and his hands slid around Gregory’s back, holding him close. His breath caught, and he tilted his forehead against Gregory’s, closing his eyes. He wanted to tell him _okay_ , that he wouldn’t do it. Just because he wanted to say now what would make Gregory happy. But all Lestat could honestly promise was to try to fight it, and he let Gregory know that with his mind.

Gregory understood that thought from Lestat and touched his hair lightly and nodded. “I know, I know,” he said softly. “It’s impossible to control the urge. Just don’t sleep for a whole three thousand years, as I did.”

“Imagine this world in three thousand years,” Lestat said with a sigh. “You know, my mother doesn’t think it will last fifty. Not for our kind, anyway. That it will be impossible for us to exist with the way mortal technology is advancing. Perhaps I’d sleep straight through the end of the world without ever realizing it.”

“The human population is always going through some growth or transformation. Although those first four thousand years were essentially slow to evolve, if you ask me. That’s why I slept through three of them.” Gregory laughed a little. “I think your mother is wrong.”

It gave Lestat a little bit of comfort to hear Gregory disagree with Gabrielle, even though it had been years since she’d said that. But Lestat trusted Gregory’s evaluation of the world far more than hers. On the other hand, fearing that there were so few short years left to their world was good motivation for Lestat to stick around to see them. To not take it for granted that it would still be there when he was ready to wake up.

“And even so,” Gregory continued, “we have replimoids to live off of, do we not? I can’t imagine they would not willingly offer their blood to us if it came to such a shortage of humans. All the more reason we should always be kind and helpful to them now.”

“What a perfectly wicked thing to say,” Lestat chided him lightly. Be kind to the replimoids just so they could eat them later? “You really are an unfathomable beast.”

Gregory shook his head. “No, I’m serious, Lestat. They are a potential source to help sustain our species. Always look forward and make friends today with those who can help you in the future… And don’t you take that as an insult to the replimoids or think it makes me heartless in some way. I appreciate them all, and I like their company. But I also see their use.”

Lestat did find it insulting an a bit heartless. He never made friends that way. Couldn’t even fathom doing so. He was either attracted to people or he wasn’t, and sometimes he got lucky and they wound up being exceedingly useful, but his initial motivations were never along those lines. “At least you’re not as bad as Armand, who still wants me to kill them all. He just sees their threat.”

“And why does he want them killed? Other than perhaps a fear they will overpopulate and they are very strong?” Gregory couldn’t understand Armand’s stance on this issue.

“Something like that.” Lestat shrugged. Armand was another person whose mind Lestat would never be able to fully gasp despite how he loved him.

Lestat wondered how Armand would react to hearing about Gregory’s party. Would he avoid it? If he did, surely Marius and Daniel would as well. And of course David couldn’t come. And Louis probably wouldn’t either. It was a good thing Gregory had plenty of other friends to fill up the ballroom… Lestat would try to make the most of it. “Maybe I’ll invite the replimoids to your party,” he said half seriously.

Gregory smiled at that suggestion. “Yes, do. But you’ll have to give strict instruction to the blood drinkers in attendance that they cannot touch them. And be sure Santh is there too, because he’s always the life of a party… not that you are not as well, my pri—Lestat.”

Lestat didn’t feel like the life of anything. He hadn’t in a long time now. He gave Gregory a small indulgent smile, though and only said, “Of course.”

If Gregory said a court event was needed to keep up morale, Lestat would make it happen. Even if none of his other loved ones attended. Well, who knew? Maybe Lestat would make some new friends. Shifting back, he slid off the couch and stood. “I could probably plan it for three weeks from now, if that suits you.”

Gregory got up and went to his laptop to quickly check his calendar. “Yes, three weeks from now is fine. I assume it’s a Friday or Saturday event.” Gregory typed in quickly to save that weekend. “This will be good for me, as I’ve been too bogged down with work lately.” He smiled at Lestat again.

Yes, it would surely be good for them all.


	27. The Limo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armand and Gregory run into each other for the first time since the torture. It leads to an unexpected rendezvous.

Armand sat curled up in an armchair within one of the castle’s comfortable salons, book in hand and thoroughly engrossed within it. He’d been feeling somewhat better as of late, though not completely normal, and was enjoying the freedom to roam about the castle untouched again.

And then Gregory wandered into the room, having ducked in with his cell to find a quick place of silence. He had to check his messages and answer a few calls before he took off and meet Santh in Paris.

He came up short when he realized Armand was there in one of the chairs, curled up with a book, looking small and deceptively innocent. “Hello, Armand,” he said casually, to alert him to his presence.

Armand stirred at the sound of that voice, a little intimidated but not enough for him to feel truly tense. Gregory had been doing his job, after all, and Armand had come to terms with that now. “Hello,” he returned politely, giving a small smile as he looked up at him from his book before returning to it.

Gregory didn’t know what to expect, but this was a little disconcerting, the completely nonchalant reaction Armand had to one who had so recently shoved a blade into his spleen, among other bodily parts, and violated him in so many ways with such violence. “And how are you doing?” he asked, just curious to know if this was an act Armand could hold up.

“As well as I can be, given the circumstances,” he answered honestly, affronted by the look in Gregory’s eye. He’d no interest in pretenses now, in coy play, in harsh words. He was only just coming back to himself, and if nothing else, he wanted gentleness. “Yourself?”

Gregory decided to sit in the chair opposite, seeing as Armand was apparently just fine now. “I am excellent.” He stared at Armand for a moment longer, then removed his phone from his suit pocket and began checking his messages. “You seem remarkably well for one who just spent four nights being flayed, burned, stabbed, and a few other things,” Gregory said quietly.

Armand tensed, affronted by Gregory’s nonchalance, and he closed his book and stood. As magnetic as Gregory’s presence was, Armand had no mind for such an attitude, one that would trivialize his anguish in such a way. “Yes. Well. I am resilient. Good night.” He nodded.

Gregory reached out and grabbed Armand’s wrist to hold him from leaving. But he let go immediately, realizing that was probably a bad thing to do just now. “Armand, sit. Please. I’m only trying to understand how you are. I’m hard pressed to believe you are as perfectly fine as you are putting on right now. Can you even talk to me?”

Armand tensed, staring at Gregory as though burned and glad that his wrist had been released. And he sat upon order, something he couldn’t understand. “What is it you want me to say? Your method worked. Does that satisfy you? I will not reach out to David. I am not well, but I am trying to be.”

Gregory sat back in his own chair and crossed one leg over the other, noting the sudden glare in Armand’s eyes. He flashed back suddenly to Armand, a broken, bloody angel beneath him, the taste of his blood everywhere.

Gregory shook off the image. It was terrible practice to let the memories of things he did on that side of himself mix with what he considered to be his real life. He always separated them. “I’m glad to hear it. Is Daniel well?”

“Daniel is fine,” Armand mumbled, opening his book again and settling back into his chair as casually as he could. There was nothing at all that could be done for his concentration now, though. “Daniel is worried, as he always is. But tell me one thing—did you enjoy it as you said you would? I should hope that at least one of us was having a good time, or it was all for nothing.” He eyed Gregory, his voice alluding to humor when his face displayed none of it.

Gregory narrowed his eyes at Armand. “Who is trivializing it now?” He stared hard at Armand and could easily read he was not as easy with this as he was putting on. “To answer your question though, yes, I enjoyed it. To do it at all you have to have some pleasure from it, or it’s impossible. Like killing mortals.”

“It is mine to trivialize,” Armand returned pointedly, flicking back through his book to find where he’d lost himself when Gregory had arrived. He made no further comment upon the matter. He’d been given his answer, and did not want to address the twinge of flattery it had sparked within him.

Gregory leaned forward a bit in his seat, even though Armand was trying to pretend disinterest. He spoke quietly, “It was mine too, Armand. And Santh’s. Understanding your side of it was the painful one. Ours was the pleasure.” He sat back and pulled out his phone again to check his messages and quickly answer anything important.

“You’ve make your point, Gregory,” Armand remarked, looking from his book to the window for a long moment in thought before briefly sparing a glance for Gregory. Armand couldn’t look at him right now—it confused him too much. He was too handsome, exuded too much power even just texting, power that had always been Armand’s downfall. And Armand didn’t particularly want to think such things of him now.

“Do you want me to leave?” Gregory asked suddenly, still staring at his phone, texting. Armand’s confusion was easy to read. Not only was he thousands of years Armand’s senior, but he’d spent enough time reading him during those nights to know his quirks and tricks to hide his real emotional state.

“I don’t know what I want. You saw to that when you pressed your lips to mine on that second night, when you moaned into my mouth. When you cherished the taste of my blood the way that you did. And you know it. You know that you saw to some great confusion within me because of it.” Armand sighed, the honesty greatly refreshing. He closed the book completely and placed it down.

Gregory looked away from his phone and to Armand as he spoke. He remembered doing that to Armand and tried to put it away from his mind and back in the box where he kept the torturing side of himself. But Armand’s struggle with it made it all very vivid again.

Gregory stared at him for a long time. “I won’t deny I did that with an agenda in mind.” He smiled at Armand. “I didn’t want you to forget it, and I knew that was how to keep it fresh in your thoughts.” He paused for a moment to think back on it again. “And it was a strong need I had, to claim you in that moment.”

Armand remembered it, could place that compulsion a mile off, and it made him feel nauseous. To know there was no innocence behind it at all, no polite curiosity, but then, what had he expected? “Many men have had that urge upon looking at me. Not many since my mortal years, though.”

Gregory nodded a little in understanding. “Yes, you have that history, I know.” He thought about what Armand must have been like as a mortal and how Marius had scooped him up from it to make him his own personal boy. Then he thought about his own life as a mortal and how similar it had been.

“You were in a brothel, owned for sex. I was much the same, Armand. Owned for sex in a court. Used by those more powerful than I for my talents in the bedroom, and always under threat of death if I didn’t perform.” He didn’t know why he was telling him this. Just that he wanted Armand to know he understood what that was like.

Armand drew back, blinking at Gregory in surprise. Gregory’s story had never been told, not in his own book, not in such a capacity. It made him feel slightly better, to have been leered over by somebody who knew how it felt to have sex at knifepoint, when it should have made him feel worse. He nodded, knowing, understanding, and feeling. “I am sorry,” he murmured.

Gregory raised a shoulder to shrug it off. “It is so far in my past now. A footnote. Eventually, you will feel the same about your history.”

Armand raised a brow, nodding thoughtfully. He could see that happening. It already seemed distant at the worst of times, but it was harder now to forget about it when recent events had churned it up like this. “Perhaps. Well. Thank you, for that at least.”

Gregory looked at his watch and saw he still had some time to kill before he had to go meet Santh. He sat back quietly in his chair and perused his messages again. Since Armand seemed a little more relaxed now, he would stay here for a while.

Armand spoke up after a long while. “And to think, we were due to take that limo ride.” He felt amused by the very notion. It seemed so distant now. So very redundant that they’d even talked of such things when in a matter of days, Gregory was practically skinning him alive.

He smiled at that. “I can still take you in a limo, Armand,” he said, glancing up from his phone. He let his eyes roam over Armand quickly and then away again. “I can take you to a conference I have this weekend in Paris.”

It was perhaps an extremely dangerous offer to accept, to be alone with Gregory in a limo. To be alone with Gregory in Paris. But perhaps it was what Armand needed to overcome this hurdle. He looked at him for a long moment, unsure of what to say. “Forgive me for my concern, but…this torture fiasco is far behind us, yes? You won’t brandish a knife the second the car door locks?” He felt truly awful for asking, but he needed to know. The lines were so blurred now and after all, Gregory had wanted to claim him.

“Of course it’s over,” he reassured immediately. “I wouldn’t hurt you again like that…unless you get in such trouble you are sentenced to it again. Though I think then I would leave it to Santh.” Gregory paused before adding, “But I won’t deny I still have this urge to claim you.”

Armand withdrew slightly, subconsciously, and looked to Gregory with wide eyes. He was no blushing virgin, not by any means, but hearing such a direct statement jarred him in a way he hadn’t expected. “Well…thank you for telling me. At least I can prepare myself for that in advance,” he said with utter sincerity. He was sure he could handle it, that nothing would come of it.

Gregory noted Armand’s response to that admission. The wide eyes and boyish beauty were hard to resist. Although he knew it was a seductive veneer used to gain power in its own way. He’d used that same trick in his early years, because it was what he’d been taught from mortal life and what he knew. As he’d aged, Gregory had let that go and gained power in more conventional ways. But he was not entirely immune to it in others. “And how would you prepare yourself for that,” he asked with a subtle heat.

Armand’s brows drew together in thought. He hadn’t intended to make a game of this, not this instant anyway, and he’d just been appreciative of Gregory’s honesty. But he looked at him and he understood the weight behind the admission. He could see the underlying hunger. “I had just thought to bear it in mind. What would you have me do?”

Armand seemed uneasy again, and Gregory cursed himself inwardly for asking that question. He rested his back against the back of his chair. He phone vibrated, and he glance at it and dismissed the call. “You don’t have to do anything. I won’t lay a hand on you unless asked.”

This made Armand feel better. That he was in control this time. And Gregory loved Lestat too much to break the law. “And if I ask? Will you take and pillage and bleed me dry? Or will it be a consensual event from start to finish?” He needed to know.

Gregory was silent for a long moment, looking at Armand and thinking of such a scenario from both sides and enjoying both, but well aware Armand likely wanted the latter. “Consensual, of course.”

That was the defining factor, after all. It was all the reassurance Armand needed. “Very well, then. I will attend this conference with you in Paris, if you’ll have me.” He smiled.

Gregory smiled fully at him. “I’m glad. It’s bound to be a little dull to you; it’s all stodgy business-types. But it’s high-end expense all around. Lots of bling… I don’t know if that’s a current word.” Gregory Googled current trending words for “bling,” and for a moment forgot Armand there watching him.

“Ah, I’ll spin it in a way to make it entertaining for myself. Men love pretty boys, even the straight ones.” Armand smirked, standing with his book and nodding. “Text me the details.”

“I only ask that you don’t defile any of my own colleagues,” Gregory said as Armand left.

Maybe this was a mistake, unleashing Armand at such a high profile event.

\---------------------

_Text conversation between David and Viktor_

David: Little Brother, are you doing okay?

Viktor: Rose texted me tonight

David: A good text or a bad one?

Viktor: good!

Viktor: good?

Viktor: I think it’s good

Viktor: it’s not a divorce at least

David: Would you like me to interpret it for you?

Viktor: would you??

David: If you are willing to share it, of course.

Viktor: yes, thank you!

Viktor: (fwd;) Viktor, this is totally weird. I know old vampires do this, but old vampires do a ton of weird stuff. Lestat turned his mom, Louis and Claudia got weird, Armand still calls Marius Master sometimes, I mean…does this really work? Idk, it’s just…weird…

David: This is neither good nor bad. Perhaps call her and speak more about it. It seems she has many confusing thoughts to air out.

Viktor: she says she doesn’t want to talk on the phone right now cause she keeps forgetting words and just cussing instead

David: You can give her my number and she can use all her colorful words on me, as it was my fault.

Viktor: III don’t think she wants to talk to you either

David: Do you want to talk to me?

Viktor: …I don’t know if I should …

David: If you want to talk, you can call me. I don’t think I can corrupt you as much over the phone.

Viktor: it’s not that…I just don’t think it’s a good idea until I have things settled with Rose. You’re…nice to be around

David: Well, I may be out of here soon, and you can be around me without asking permissions.

Viktor:…I don’t think you’re getting what I’m trying to say

David: I’m getting exactly what you’re trying to say, my boy.

Viktor: ok then what am I saying

David: You’re concerned about your marriage. You want to make it right again. You want to be with me. You’re conflicted.

Viktor: …don’t tell anyone

David: Not a word.

Viktor: I’ll get over it

David: Sure you will, old man. Shake it off. Go rub some dirt on it. You’ll be fine.

Viktor: I meant I’ll get over whatever draws me to you

David: I see humor doesn’t translate in text.

Viktor: …I guess not. Sorry, I’ve been told I don’t pick up on things well

David: I’ve shaken your moral compass, I’m sorry. I was trying to simply share something with you that I knew you’d yet to experience. And if I’m honest, I was trying to be the first to show you that because I wanted to be that memory for you. I still wish Lestat had not shown up to darken that, because now it’s just a memory of regret for you.

Viktor: I should be regretful, David. Even if monogamy isn’t the norm for us, it’s still what Rose and I agreed to

\---------------------

_Text Conversation between Viktor and Lestat_

Viktor: Rose is coming home tomorrow. I don’t think she wants a divorce

Lestat: She told me.

Viktor: maybe we three could go out sometime

Lestat: I’m taking Rose to Monte Carlo this weekend. Maybe when we get back.

Viktor: oh! She’ll love that! It’ll be good to get away

Lestat: You have no idea.

\------------------------

The weekend arrived, along with Gregory’s conference in Paris. Gregory had his company spend way too much on the limo, simply because Armand had wanted something flashier than he was used to. Gregory was dressed in an expensive Italian-made business suit and tie, gold cuff-links, and had a vague scent of a masculine cologne on.

Armand was quite beautifully dressed as well, and Gregory admired him there on the seat opposite. “I’ll have you know, this thing cost a fortune, just so I could impress you with the wealth.” He smiled.

Armand shot a small smile Gregory’s way at the statement. He’d donned his finest suit and shoes, and took Gregory’s mention of ‘bling’ to heart with glittering rings. Nothing tacky, he was well aware of today’s fashion of less is more. “I’m a millionaire, Gregory. You’ll have to do more than that,” he teased. Of course not much more. Wealth had always impressed him.

Gregory laughed and quickly took out his phone to send a text to his assistant that they were on the way. “Armand, you won’t tarnish my colleagues with your seductive ways, will you? I have a reputation to keep in this world.”

“What could lead you to ask such a thing? I’ve not alluded to it so far. Well, not today,” he returned, watching the world go by through the tinted windows. “In fact, I’ve done nothing but sit here on my best behavior. Though you have my word. I will not.”

“Well, it might have been that you said men love pretty boys. Even straight men,” Gregory replied. He glanced out at the passing scenery, as Armand was doing, and then back to him. “Why didn’t you want Daniel here with us?”

Armand thought on this for a moment, picking at his sleeve as an excuse not to look at Gregory. “I didn’t want him to know I was going out with you at all. He…he would have a few choice words. And it would worry him, to say the least. He’s been worrying far too much lately,” he murmured. “Am I wrong to think that? You’re a man. You’ve made your thoughts on me clear.”

Gregory stretched one arm along the seat, relaxed in this lavish vehicle and with the pretty sight of Armand across from him to look at all he wanted. Interesting that he didn’t want Daniel to know about this. At some point, it would come out to Daniel, though.

“No, you are not wrong to think that at all. My intentions are very clear here. I’m surprised, though, that you are so quickly willing to trust being alone with me, even if I’ve promised not to do anything without consent. I literally tortured you in the woods for many nights on end. Why are you so willingly here now, Armand?”

Armand thought on this. There had been a lot of thinking and deliberating so far where he’d expected none, and he appreciated a man who could make him think.

“Some say I am mad.” He shrugged finally, eyes raking over Gregory. He wasn’t Armand’s usual type, not blond, no. Dark eyes, darker than Armand’s own. But he held a magnetism all his own. He was dreadfully handsome, and powerful. He was kind to those who knew him, was adept at showing love and affection where it was due, and had a dominant streak a mile wide. That was Armand’s sort of man. Not to mention his build.

Armand made the move to sit beside Gregory, their knees touching as he did, but he made no attempt to touch him besides. He only looked up at him from this new angle. “I think sometimes that’s the easiest explanation.”

Gregory could read off Armand the attraction to him, the draw to be close. Which might have been the natural energy Gregory put out to draw in others; particularly those he felt would be beneficial to him. More likely, it was just Armand’s attraction to dominant men and power. Gregory wondered if he was wrongly manipulating this situation, because he had such things in spades.

He watched him for a quiet moment. “You’re not mad, Armand. You’re just still young. And I don’t mean that in the sense that you look young, so don’t get offended. I mean 500 years…it’s still very young.” He tilted his head a little and smiled at him.

“Say that to a mortal.” Armand grinned, locking eyes with Gregory as he thought. “I am mad, or I used to be. I have to have been, to do half of the things I did to people, to myself. But I don’t mind it. Or perhaps I just bounce back quicker than you would have given me credit for.” Gregory’s genuine smile lit a spark inside him. It was warm, it seemed almost proud. Why did he want Gregory to be proud?

Gregory almost reached over to touch the rich auburn curls of Armand’s hair but restrained the urge. He didn’t think at all that Armand had recovered as well as he was putting on. And if he had, then Gregory thought he must not have done the job as thoroughly as he should have. But he didn’t voice this to Armand because that would possibly send him back to the other side of the seats.

“I suppose you’ve had to adapt and overcome to a lot of bad events in your life.” Gregory glanced away, looking for another topic that wasn’t so serious. “Tell me why you love limos so much?”

Armand shook his head and smiled. “I don’t, particularly. They’re fine. It was a ploy to get you to take me somewhere,” he admitted openly, placing a hand upon Gregory’s thigh. “Plenty of space.”

Gregory smiled slowly. “There is plenty of space. I agree,” he replied, holding eye contact. “Interesting that you had such a ploy, though. I would have taken you somewhere with or without it such ploys.”

“That’s good to know. I can do away with pretenses if I feel up to this again. Depending, of course, on how we take to one another,” Armand said coyly, eyes never leaving Gregory’s as he slid his hand further up his strong thigh. Was his intention truly to claim him? He seemed so cool and nonchalant about Armand being there at all. “So tell me, what do you usually do with your guests in a limo of this size?”

Gregory felt his pulse quicken as that hand moved, but he stayed very still, as he didn’t want to frighten Armand off with any sudden moves on him. “I normally take a smaller car and drive myself to these events and don’t use the limos at all.”

He glanced down at the hand moving up his thigh and then back to Armand. “I’m not going to touch you Armand, until you say I can… I think that was the agreement,” he said, eyes half-lidded, a small smile on his lips.

“Oh, I know.” Armand smirked, squeezing Gregory’s thigh lightly. “What, do you truly think I am some desperate, aimless virgin in need of your touch? A deer in your line of sight? Let it not be forgotten that it was you who first expressed an interest. I would argue that you are desperate for me,” he teased, leaning up to whisper it into Gregory’s ear.

Gregory’s breath caught momentarily, aware that he’d essentially handed off all control to Armand by making that agreement. But he wasn’t entirely defenseless here, as Armand was clearly wanting this, too. “Virginal…? No, you clearly are not that.” He cocked his head a little to the side, holding Armand’s eye-contact, and placed each arm out on the back of the seat, stretching legs out before him, spread out, offering. “Desperate is a strong word… _hungry_ for you might be a little more fitting. I’m never desperate.”

“Hungry in what way?” Armand asked quietly, wide eyed as he pressed his hand even further before lifting it to trail along the line of Gregory’s powerful throat. He felt the pulse of his jugular beneath his fingertips, and he sighed softly. “In the carnal sense? Or in the way of the hunter, out for my blood?” He slid his hand around Gregory’s throat entirely and lightly caressed it with his thumb. “How would it feel for the hunter to become the hunted?”

He laughed, the sound low in his throat. “Hungry in the way that I would like to do many, many things to you. Carnal and hunter.” Gregory swallowed, resting his head back on the seat to expose himself further, eyes darkening.

Armand laughed into Gregory’s ear appreciatively, delighting in the rumble of his rich voice against his hand. He’d heard that sort of thing many times, from many, many men, but when it was spoken by the right one, he would never tire of hearing it.

“List them off. One by one,” Armand ordered firmly, squeezing Gregory’s throat gently and nipping at his ear. The spark of his ancient blood sent a shiver down Armand’s spine. So much raw power.

Gregory had to glance away from those eyes for minute, to collect what he could of his composure. Everyone knew Armand was an expert at seduction, so this shouldn’t be such a surprise to him at all, yet it was. It was unnerving to see this young face saying these very suggestive things to him.

He looked back to Armand, remaining still and refusing himself the luxury of reaching out to grab him and do what he wanted to him. “Name them all? That will take some time. At this moment, though, I would like to have you straddling my lap so you can feel how hungry I am.”

Armand wondered for a moment just how much Gregory wanted it, if he could make him beg for it. But there would be plenty of time for that later. Even if they made it to Paris beforehand, Gregory would be left wanting. And that was even better than immediate gratification.

He released Gregory’s throat and did as asked, straddling his hips. He was immediately taken aback by the ‘hunger’ - by the girth and strength of it. He hummed thoughtfully, hands braced on Gregory’s chest as he ground down. “Indeed, I can feel it. But what else? We have an hour or two before we reach Paris. You have time to list some of them.”

Gregory sucked in a long low breath. _This little minx,_ Gregory thought to himself and sent the thought to Armand.

He considered grabbing Armand, flipping him over and drinking from him, among other things. But he wouldn’t. This was something he should give Armand, as it would easily give him back some of the power Gregory had taken from him through all the torture.

He laid his head back on the back of the seat and looked up at him. He knew how to play this role too, though it had been a very long time. “I would like to stretch you out on the floor here, the seat, anywhere, and fuck you until you beg for me to stop because you can’t come anymore, and then I’ll drive my fangs into your throat and take every drop of that luscious hot salty blood in your veins… And maybe I’ll feed it back to you… I don’t know.” He smiled sweetly, eyes fixed on Armand’s.

Armand appreciated having this control back, especially now that Gregory had said this. He laughed richly at the moniker. Little minx indeed, he’d heard that enough times too. He knew that the second he gave this powerful ancient permission to touch him, he’d be stretched so far to his limits, he’d have to miss the conference. But having this admission, that someone like Gregory wanted him in such a way, even fleetingly, well that made him feel like the most powerful blood drinker on earth, regardless.

He continued to grind on Gregory’s lap, slowly, carefully, hitting the right spots with skillful precision every single time. “And how long has this been brewing for you? This…hunger? Have you always looked at me and felt it? Has it only been since I was at your mercy? From the moment you first kissed me?” He wanted to know. He was egotistical like that.

Gregory’s breath hitched traitorously at Armand’s movement. This was ridiculous, he was better than this. He recollected himself, pushing the pleasure aside and focusing on Armand instead, scanning over what thoughts he could get out of him. Some plans to tease and leave Gregory frothed up and frustrated for the conference. Which Gregory wasn’t sure he cared for, as he had to give a small presentation and that would potentially throw off his game no matter how good he was at compartmentalizing.

“When did I become hungry for you,” he restated Armand’s question, his voice low and heated as he stared into those lovely brown eyes. “Actually, that first night in the cave, when both Santh and I were beating you down, and you were just not giving in that easily.”

Gregory moved his hips beneath Armand to get more of a satisfying pressure on the movements, his own hands clenching into fists at the ache of it. “And then Armand, you chose him over me for the following night, and I was not happy with that. I think that’s when the hunger started.”

He took a deep breath, watching Armand closely, feeling that pleasurable movement against him. “I hope you appreciate the iron-will control I’m keeping on myself not to touch, Armand.”

Armand laughed. “Should I appreciate it? Should I be impressed that a man of six thousand years on this earth has the capacity to keep his cock where it belongs? Or are all men the same regardless of age?” he teased, ceasing his movements and looking into Gregory’s eyes for just a moment, delighting in the unabashed hunger and lust.

“You may touch me, Gregory.”

Gregory’s eyes darkened at the sudden freedom. In a flash, he grabbed Armand by the waist, pushing him down to the floor of the car. Plenty of space, as Armand had said. He bit into his own tongue, sliding his hands up into those inviting curls on Armand’s head and holding him still for a deeply sensual kiss. He pressed himself against Armand, getting full on friction between them, moaning into his soft sweet mouth.

Armand laughed again, into his mouth, only for the rush of it all and the absolute shock. He laced his own hands into Gregory’s hair, unused to it, and delighting in all of it. From the taste of his blood to the passion of the kiss. From the way he moaned into his mouth to the way he rut against him like a schoolboy. It thrilled him to his very core, and he spread his legs further and wrapped them around Gregory’s waist.

Gregory continued the heavy kissing, sliding one hand down between them, easily undoing Armand’s pants, wrapping a strong hand around his length and working him with a hard fast rhythm. “Do you think I enjoy being hungry for you like this? It’s a very distracting thing,” he breathed menacingly against Armand’s ear. “I don’t have time for this type of thing, and I need to get you out of my system, Armand.”

This hurt Armand a little, the notion that this would all be over soon, and Gregory wouldn’t ever look at him this way again. But he could hardly dwell on this with Gregory’s hand wrapped hot and heavy around him. He gasped and moaned simultaneously, sliding his arms around Gregory’s neck. “You adore it. You’ll be sad to be rid of me.”

Gregory stopped movement on Armand’s dick suddenly. Eyes dangerous as he looked down on him. “You will _not_ be laughing when I’m done with you.”

He easily lifted and removed Armand’s shoes and pants, then undid his own, freeing the length of himself, which was considerable. He could probably make Armand beg for it, but that might be better saved for later when there was more time. He covered Armand’s small body with his own, roughly kissing that mouth again, which was very addictive. “I’m going to need some saliva, Armand. Unless you want to go dry on this.”

And Armand was under the impression that this sort of thing was meant to be fun. It was all the better to tease one another, to share a playful laugh, but Gregory seemed to be of a different persuasion, and Armand could adapt to it.

He wiped the smile off of his face and locked eyes with Gregory. “You clearly have some aggression to take out on me, despite my brutal torture, so you take me however you see fit.” He could handle it.

Over the next minutes Gregory made fast work of opening Armand up, gathered enough blood-tinged saliva between the two of them to make this not entirely painful for Armand, and slid fully into him, enjoying the small sounds he made in response.

He pressed him to the floor of the vehicle, and paused staring down at Armand with the hunger for him threatening to drown out all his other senses. Why was this young one having this effect? Gregory didn’t move. Although everything in him was urging him on to quick completion. He braced himself up on his arms and examined Armand closely, examining this.

Armand was glad that Gregory had resolved not to move for a while. It gave him time to adjust, to relax around him and open up and take even more in. It gave him time to enjoy it all the more, the sensation of it, to dwell on it, and he couldn’t suppress a couple of moans.

But what he couldn’t understand was why. Why had he decided to stop? Why was he staring at him as though he was something unusual, something to be gawked at, as though he’d never truly looked at him before? He frowned delicately, gazing into Gregory’s eyes to discern the reason. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Gregory shook his head a little, letting himself down to rest closer against Armand again, his hands cradling the back of Armand’s head. “Nothing. I’m not, as a rule, like this during sex. I’m trying to examine it. Never mind.” He kissed Armand slowly, savoring the taste of him, his tongue, his lips. He began to move slowly, feeling the deep erotic pleasure as it spread between them.

Armand quirked a brow, wondering what he meant by this, but it didn’t matter, not really. What mattered was the sheer gravity of the pleasure they were finding in one another’s bodies. What mattered was the slow, sinful burn of Gregory’s movements, and the way Gregory was kissing him as though he were Eros himself. He was suddenly rather very distraught that Gregory would want to forget about him. This all felt too good. Unfairly good.

He moved in an easy rhythm against Armand, sliding a hand between them to take him in a firm grip again and moving his fist on him in tandem with the movement of his thrusting. Armand made the sweetest alluring noises beneath him as he worked him expertly, and it thrilled Gregory to get such rewarding sounds from the infamously seductive Armand.

He kissed Armand’s exposed throat, sucking at his jugular, feeling that heartbeat against his lips. How he wanted that blood just now, remembering the taste of it from only a few days ago under such different circumstances.

“Take it,” Armand demanded breathlessly. He could tell without reading Gregory’s thoughts that he wanted to, of course he did. And Armand wanted it too. He wanted to be claimed in every possible way by this mighty being. He craved that powerlessness.

Gregory slid his fangs into that smooth skin, the blood filling his mouth and his senses, overwhelming him. He drew on Armand, the pleasure almost too much now to take, as he picked up the pace of their joining. He didn’t want to drain Armand, though. He lifted his head from his throat and kissed him again, devouring as he reached that edge of completion, tumbling into it with full abandon, encouraging Armand to join him.

Armand followed almost immediately, the pulse of Gregory’s cock within him enough to drive him to madness. He did laugh, once Gregory was done with him, and he feared that he might get beaten for it. But he couldn’t help it. He was sated, and happy, and he’d enjoyed himself so thoroughly that a breathless giggle was his way of expressing himself.

Gregory lay his head down on the floor beside Armand’s, still resting within him. All tension dissolved away now. Just listening to their hearts slow down to normal rates. The giggle was amusing to him now. He lifted his head and looked at Armand’s happy face, his auburn curls smashed against his forehead with blood sweat. It was charming. “Oh, did I pass your standards?”

Armand nodded happily, cradling Gregory’s head with his hands and combing through his hair. “My standards aren’t high, just good conversation and a skillful hand, and a dominant streak. So yes,” he murmured, staring up at the ceiling of the moving vehicle as he thought. “Thank you…I hope I met yours.”

He chuckled lightly, kissing Armand’s throat again as he did so. “Of course you did.” He looked down at him more closely now, a disheveled angel.

And then he looked at the state of both of them. “This is like a $3,000 suit, completely wrinkled now… among other things.” Gregory withdrew himself from Armand, tried to clean himself up and then tried to do the same with Armand. “Armand, I have to give a presentation in this suit in like an hour,” he muttered. Not that it was Armand’s fault. It was all his own doing, not thinking ahead enough. They might have to stop for Gregory to quickly change first.

Armand sighed and rolled his eyes, scooting back up to the seat opposite Gregory and redressing himself, shoes included.

“You shouldn’t let your hunger get the best of you then.” He teased, folding his arms. He craved the comfort he would usually get after this, the cuddles and kisses and sweet words. But he’d never get that from Gregory, and that was fine. He looked at him for a long moment, wondering if it was over now, if Gregory had truly gotten him out of his system. If their paths were entwined now and they’d not come across each other like this again. And then he looked out of the window.

Gregory sent a text to his assistant to have a clean suit waiting when they arrived. Of course she was so brilliant, she said she was already waiting with one. Was he that predictable? He would give her another raise. He checked all the messages he’d received while busy with Armand and then suddenly remembered Armand.

He looked up from his phone to Armand sitting there opposite, composed and quiet. He sensed a gloominess in him and was confused by it. “What is wrong?” He moved over to the seat beside him, brushing the hair from his forehead, taking one of his hands in his. “You were giggling a moment ago.”

“I am fine,” Armand said quickly, turning to Gregory with a smile. He was surprised by his tenderness, and tentatively squeezed his larger hand. “Well, even. I’m enjoying the limo as it was intended.”

Gregory stared at Armand a moment longer, not entirely convinced of his claim to be fine. He ducked his head a bit to get some eye contact with him and when he got it, he smiled. “Don’t be distant with me,” he said and kissed Armand’s hand. “Tell me.”

A light heat dusted Armand’s cheeks. This whole agreement had never been that, something so gentle and sweet. He didn’t ever expect to have Gare care, have him kiss his hand, have him sweep the curls off of his forehead.

“I am loathe to say it, for I don’t want to give you the satisfaction…but is this truly over between us now?” he asked quietly, fully expecting mockery and callousness in response.

Gregory laughed. “Over? One time and done? No. I have plans for you. This conference lasts all weekend.” He laughed again. “Really, you thought once was my limit?”

Armand frowned delicately, relief washing over him as he held Gregory’s hand.

“I thought you just needed to get me out of your system. I thought I was an annoyance.” Gregory had made him seem like a chore, almost. And it did hurt.

Gregory paused, thinking back to when he’d said that. “I was frustrated because I wanted you, and you were teasing for quite some time beforehand. I think I said my hunger for you was distracting and I don’t have time for it…” He looked at Armand. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I was speaking truth, though. I don’t like distraction, and I don’t have a lot of time for it. If I want something, I get it. I don’t waste a lot of time on chasing.” He kissed Armand’s forehead, suddenly flashing back to when he’d carved his initials there with the knife in the cave. He shut his eyes and shook off the image.

Armand nodded, taking this into account. If they were to develop any sort of relationship, Armand would have to keep such things in mind. “Well, now the chase is over, I will make sure not to bore you,” he said teasingly, his smile reaching his eyes this time. He liked Gregory. He liked this tenderness.

Gregory returned the smile. “I’m sure you are anything but boring.” He sat closer to Armand on the seat and nudged him with an elbow playfully. “My assistant will be meeting us when we arrive, with a clean suit, and she will be trailing around with us all night, because that’s what I pay her to do. So don’t eat her or anything, please,” he teased.

Armand shook his head and smiled. “I am no danger to these people, Gregory, I swear it. And if I do play with them a little, I have you punishing me to look forward to.” He smirked.

Gregory looked darkly at Armand, leaned close and slid one strong hand around his throat, using just enough force to hold him in place and make his point and his dominance clear. “Again, don’t mess with any of my closest colleagues, Armand. I think you can remember my punishments enough to know that they are not enjoyable for you.”

Armand smiled sweetly, turning his head and pecking Gregory on the lips playfully. “Again, I am no danger to them. I can control myself, my friend. Whilst five hundred years is nothing to you, it is still a considerable amount of time to learn how to behave in society. All of your colleagues are safe from me.”

He let Armand go, trusting his word. “Good boy,” he said lightly, returning to check a recent message from his assistant. “We are almost there,” he said, glancing at Armand’s appearance. He smoothed his fingers back through his own hair and then through Armand’s, to make it look less of a disarray.

Armand laughed softly at Gregory’s fretting, allowing him this before nodding. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

  
\-----------------------  
  
_Text conversation between Lestat and Louis_

  
Lestat: Yo. Where are you?

Lestat: I'm taking Rose to Monte Carlo tonight for the weekend.

Lestat: I just didn't want to leave without letting you know.

Lestat: Okay, I guess I'll see you Monday?

Lestat: Love you...

\---------------------

_Text Conversation between Daniel and David_

David: Hello Daniel.

Daniel: this is what you’re acting like you creep  
_[Gif of Hannibal Lecter saying Hello, Clarice]_

David: Oddly, I’m not insulted by that comparison.

Daniel: you wouldn’t be, would you? What do you want?

David: I just want to check on you. I know Armand has left for the weekend.

Daniel: I’m a big fledgling, Dave, I can mind myself. I’m not even tied to Marius’s apron strings anymore

David: I’m pleased for you Daniel, that you don’t need anyone to protect you anymore. How is Armand doing?

Daniel: it’s none of your business. I’m going to change my number if you don’t leave me alone you sexual assaulting piece of shit

David: Daniel, there was no sex involved.

Daniel: blood, sex, what’s the difference in that manner?

David: Well, one involves genitals, the other is fangs.

Daniel: and both are violating and take something that doesn’t belong to you and make the other person feel shit they don’t want to

David: Do you know where Armand is right now, Daniel? Because I’m hearing some rumors.

Daniel: he’s out, idk, he said he wanted space and was going to Paris

Daniel: why you wanna rape him again too?

David: No, of course not. Perhaps Gregory is managing that right now.

Daniel: …the fuck are you talking about?

David: I mean Armand is with Gregory right now in Paris. I wonder why.

Daniel: well it’s not my fucking business now is it?

Daniel: I’m sure Armand can handle himself. Gregory isn’t gonna hurt him, he was doing his job, what’s your excuse?

David: I don’t have an excuse, Daniel. I just was not in my right mind at the time. I’m on medication now. But I do still enjoy these chances to chat. I’m sure you’re right and Armand is fine.

David: Just odd to be suddenly spending time alone with the one who tortured you.

Daniel: and people say the same shit online about him and Marius. Boss is weird, vamps are weird. How’s those meds working?

David: Although I get the impression your question is dripping in sarcasm, they are working fine.

David: Would you like to meet me in a private location and see if they are really working?

Daniel: I haven’t been suicidal since the 80s, man

David: I’m not going to kill you. I like the chase too much.

Daniel: right you’ll just smash my brains in for sport, cool

David: Eventually I will be able to leave this tower Daniel. What will you do when you run into me?

Daniel: depends. If I run away are you going to chase me?

Daniel: because I’m VERY good at running

David: I did just tell you I like the chase.

Daniel: fine. Be straight with me. What do you want? I’m not strong, I’m not psychic, I’m underweight and undereducated and still sometimes get lost in this damn castle. You like me cause I’m pathetic or you that much a fan of my writing or what?

David: I don’t really want to chase you, Daniel. I’m bored, you’re fun to bother. That’s all it is now.

Daniel: way to make a guy feel special

David: Do you really need me to make you feel special, Daniel?

Daniel: do you really need to psychoanalyze all my snark, Dr. Lecter?

David: I’m going now, Daniel. I’ll torment you more later.  
  


\-----------------------

_Text conversation between Daniel and Armand_

Daniel: hey Boss, what’s up?

Armand: Nothing Daniel, is everything alright?

Daniel: yeah, it’s chill here. Miss you is all.

Armand: I’ll be home soon, don’t worry. David isn’t giving you any grief, is he?

Daniel: course not

Armand: You’d tell me?

Daniel: David’s not dumb enough to try anything again

Armand: I might be. If he reaches out to you, ignore him. I’ll have a friendly word when I get back.

Daniel: everything’s fine baby boy, I’m still just edgy is all. Miss you.

Armand: When I get home, I’m all yours. All 5.5 ft of me.

Daniel: stop measuring with your shoes on

Armand: Bastard.

Daniel: bastard, yes, doesn’t that make you my unwed mother then?

Armand: Hold your digital tongue, or I’ll not be coming home to you at all tonight.

Armand::blue_heart:

————————————————————

Lestat was frustrated to have to delay his departure with Rose to Monte Carlo in order to meet in his royal office at his Prime Minister’s request. Fortunately, the meeting was a very brief one. Unfortunately, it consisted of Marius asking his princely leave to quit the court for a period of time ‘due to personal reasons _._ ’ That was all Marius would say.

Marius promised to return when he was ready to do so, and promised that if Lestat absolutely needed him, he might summon him back as he saw fit as prince.

What else could Lestat do but agree?

By dawn, Marius was gone from the chateau. He did not take his phone with him.


	28. Cats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the cats are away, the mice will play. David and Daniel find each other while Lestat and Armand are each gone for the weekend. Then David and Lestat discuss Viktor.

_Text conversation between David and Lestat_

David: Hello love.

Lestat: What’s your lucky number?

David: Numbers are not lucky one way or the other. But I do like the number 8.

Lestat: I might have agreed, except you just won me **€** 6500 at the roulette table

David: Ah well then, buy yourself something nice and think of it as from me.

Lestat: Never mind… lost it

Lestat: I should have stuck with 8

David: Why are you gambling? Where are you?

Lestat: Because it’s fun

David: I like fun. You could have taken me along, wherever you are that you aren’t telling me.

Lestat: I’m with Rose.  
She is having much better luck than I am.  
And neither of us are cheating! Games of chance only.

David: I’m proud of Rose for not cheating.

Lestat: I’ll bring you next time

David: I look forward to it…wherever you are.

Lestat: I’ll bring you home a souvenir t-shirt from the gift shop.

David: Have I ever worn a t-shirt, Lestat? How about a snow-globe instead?

Lestat: Flip flops

Lestat: A hat!

David: A hat is fine.

David: Not a baseball hat.

Lestat: Too late.

David: :neutral_face:

Lestat: :billed_cap:

\-----------------

David had just finished disposing of the body of his most recent hunt and was casually walking along the rooftops in one of the more populated areas of the city of Vichy. It was no Paris, but it was much closer to the chateau, and full of young people.

He paused suddenly at the edge of a building and looked down on a fancy little cafe patio, the hunting instinct in him rearing its head again. He stared down at the familiar form sitting alone at a table, his laptop out, his little earbuds in.

David debated… With the help of his medication, he was so close to getting released from his sentence of confinement in Lestat’s rooms. But this was too much to resist. Certainly a little fun could be had and no one would know.

Silently he dropped down to the alleyway, sauntered around the corner to the cafe and was seated opposite Daniel as if he’d just solidified from a mist. “Hello, Daniel.”

Daniel stared ahead for several moments, trying to make sense of what unfolded in front of him. David? Fucking David? “You’re quick,” he said in almost a snort. “For once, I can match you there, though.”

David smiled. “Can you match me at all really, Daniel?” David had not actually seen Daniel since that hearing with the council.

David ordered a hot tea from the young server who approached the table. “This is a pleasant cafe, Daniel. Good choice.”

Daniel nodded, looking past David towards the middle-aged man he’d been thinking about for his dinner. “It’s not my usual haunt, but it gets me fed,” he said evenly, matching eyes with David. “I’m hoping you’re not looking to make a meal of me again?”

David looked over at the man Daniel was watching. An easy enough target. Though not really the type to give much of a fun chase.

He looked back to Daniel. “No, I’m not here to make a meal of you, Daniel. I just ate. And like I told you, I’m medicated. Sedated. My violent tendencies are muffled…most of the time.”

Daniel held his gaze a moment, before deciding _fine, fuck this_. He was tired, and he hated this shame that still hung over him. “So, do you think I’m pretty as Lestat likes to describe me in his books?”

David narrowed his eyes at Daniel. What an out of the blue question. How far into crazy had he pushed this poor boy?

He looked Daniel over slowly, considering. “Yes.”

His tea arrived at the table and he wrapped his hands around it, enjoying the warmth. “Why are you concerned with your looks?”

“You still dress in perfectly tailored suits and keep plenty of oils and waxes for your hair, whereas my maker can’t get me into a button-up shit short of threats. I think we’re on equal footing with vanity, David,” said Daniel, tipping his head to avoid a glare on his glasses, to see David without hindrance. “I was just wondering if it was my eyes that got you or that I look so frail. Maybe if I were built more like Thorne you wouldn’t be trying to take me on.”

“No, don’t gloss over that vain thing. How in the world are we on equal footing?” David glanced down at his tea. It smelled of Earl Grey, a scent that always made him feel at ease and at home. “It’s not a physical thing, Daniel.”

“You were made from Lestat, and I come from Marius’s bloodline. We’ve both got Akasha’s blood to a degree; I’m lacking only due to my sickness, not by how I was made. Just watch out, David, I’ll take you by surprise one of these nights.”

David laughed a little at this logic. “You have Armand’s blood in you. I have Lestat’s. We all have Akasha’s blood in us to some degree, as she is the mother. You are not stronger than me, Daniel. It doesn’t matter anyhow. I’m not going to attack you again, and I’m sorry I did in the first place, if that means anything now. I suspect it doesn’t.”

He eyed Daniel quietly. “Maybe you should ask Kapetria about some medication for yourself, if you have a sickness.” He leaned forward a bit, holding eye-contact. “Since we’re on the subject of the attack, Daniel. I’ll ask you something that I myself have been curious about all these weeks. Didn’t you enjoy any of it? Not even the taste, the rush, of my blood?”

Daniel wanted to look away, back at his would-be dinner, but he resisted. He kept his eyes on David’s, tired of being frightened and skittish. “First of all, I’m not sick anymore; I just had a fledgling’s thrall. It happens, especially those of us turned in distress. And I survived it. And second…”

God, this was a mistake.

“Of course I enjoyed it. It was blood sharing. How could it not feel good?”

How interesting that Daniel was willing to admit that truth. David observed him, sitting there, trying to be brave and not awkward. “So tell me, Daniel, why did you spit my blood back at me? Because I feel that was the real turning point. Up until that moment, it was something akin to consensual rough sex, wasn’t it? But you rejected my offer rather rudely. I know you feel some attraction to me, Daniel. Most of this cafe finds me attractive.

“And I’m not vain, Daniel. This is not the body I was born with. I still can barely look into a mirror, because it’s jarring to see this other person who isn’t me. I dress well and keep up my appearance because that’s how I was raised.”

“Just because it was pleasurable doesn’t mean I wanted it,” Daniel said. “Heroin made me feel great too and so did ecstasy, but I would have been smart to not get wrapped up in any of that, huh?” God, he wished there was a vampire equivalent to smoking. He needed something to do with his hands right now.

“Ah, yes. Poor Daniel with all his addictions,” David said, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. “You’re addicted to the mistreatment too, aren’t you? That would explain all of it.”

David smiled a little at him. “And I’m addicted to human blood, so that’s not my fault at all that I go out and kill them every night and enjoy it. It’s all addiction.”

Daniel bristled as David hit one of his sore spots; he was not in a good way by the end, between alcohol and pills and blood and sickness. To be mocked for it burned him deeply, but he refused to show it. “Doesn’t everyone like an adrenaline rush?”

David sensed the pain and felt bad suddenly. He looked away from Daniel and discreetly watched the man Daniel was targeting for his dinner. “Yes, we do all love a rush,” he said quietly. He wished suddenly he was not here tormenting Daniel. This was a foolish move. His gaze returned to the vampire opposite himself. “Are you going to forgive me for what I did?”

“…Probably,” Daniel sighed, more put out by watching his meal get up and leave then he was by David being David. “Eventually, I mean. That’s what we do right? How we survived eternity? Armand did it, Louis did it. I probably will too.”

David nodded. “Yes, that seems to be the pattern.” His eyes followed the man as he left. “Aren’t you going to follow him? Do you want me to find you another? Because the young woman over there has some dark history qualifying her as evildoer.” He nodded to the corner of the cafe where she sat.

“I need to find someone,” Daniel said, agreeing in a vague sense. He still needed a meal every night, a full kill, and he was starving. He glanced behind himself for a moment; oh, yeah, she’d be alright, she had a wickedness in her that drew him in. “…Join me?”

“Well, I just ate. But if you want me to watch, sure.” David was amused that Daniel apparently could just go from awkward and nervous around him to offering to share a hunt.

 _Watch. Huh, where have I played such a game before?_ Daniel thought darkly as he stood to throw away his undrunk coffee, now cold in his hand. She was pretty—wasn’t everyone to him now?—late twenties, not much younger than him, strawberry blonde hair and soft looking skin. He liked that in a victim, supple and soft flesh against his lips, yielding under his killer’s bite.

Daniel could have charmed her. He could have flirted and spirited her away, but he was too hungry for a long hunt. Instead, all it took was his touch, his hand grazing her shoulder, catching her eye for just a moment, before she closed her paperback and stood slowly to follow him.

Daniel was no Armand, but he had his own tricks.

David sighed and rolled his eyes a bit. He remained where he was, because it seemed dangerous to follow and watch. He wouldn’t let Daniel tempt him again into going back over the edge.

“I’ll be here,” he said as Daniel took the woman off to her demise.

Daniel slipped behind the cafe with her, into the alcove where the trash was kept, never quite pleased to have to take a meal by flies and maggots, but nothing to be done about that now. With soft touches, he kept her enthralled, her body naturally seeking out more of it, coming closer and into his arms.

And when Daniel came back to the front of the cafe, there was a body in the hollow of a tree, and a blood drinker before David looking bright eyed and alive again.

David was sitting, relaxed with his arms crossed over his chest; a trait which had carried over from his older mortal self into this life. Daniel looked flushed and alert, the scent of blood still on him. David stared. “Why do you insist on wearing those glasses? You know your eyes would be your crowning asset if you didn’t hide them behind the glare of lenses like that.”

Daniel blinked for a moment, still high from the hum of blood in his body and the soul of the life he’d taken. Rarely any guilt from Daniel, no remorse. He absolutely delighted in what they were. “Because they make me look damn smart,” he said with a deadpan seriousness, while cloaking his thoughts, to see whether David thought he was being truthful or teasing.

David stared at him. He wasn’t sure they did make him look smarter at all. “You just bragged about your lack of vanity, so that doesn’t quite make sense, Daniel.”

“Is physical vanity over one being beautiful the same as wanting to be seen as smart or quick witted?” Daniel wanted to know. “I guess it all comes down to pride. Maybe I just want to feel like Clark Kent.”

David smiled a little and felt alone suddenly. “I’m not sure why I’m here. I should just go back to the tower. Maybe Lestat will show up.” Daniel seemed fine now that he’d gotten some blood. “And you? Where is Marius? Why are you not with him right now?”

“Marius has been in and out a lot lately.” Daniel shrugged. “Right now he’s out, Lestat says. On some trip. Maybe he’s gone back to the Netherlands where he was obsessed with a gallery they have showing. Watercolors of all things. Can you see Mars painting watercolor?”

Daniel kinda hoped maybe Marius would invite him along soon. It had been so long since they had been together for an outing.

“Oh, watercolor? That would be quite a transition for him.” David thought about it. “Yes, I think I could see him doing that.” He watched a group of rowdy college students take a table nearby. “That sounds like Lestat, actually. He has been _in and out_ a lot. He’s off somewhere with Rose this weekend to be alone with her…because I seduced Viktor.” David laughed lightly.

Daniel shouldn’t have been surprised. Honestly, David could tell Daniel right now that he went to Fareed and he had a baby on the way with some poor chick, and Daniel wouldn’t be surprised. “And how did Lestat take you molesting his little angel?”

David tried not to laugh about this, but it was things like this that gave him the greatest amusement lately. Although he did feel bad for having upset Lestat over it.

“I seduced him, not molested, Daniel.” David laughed again. “Lestat walked in on it, actually…and he was mainly upset with Viktor for cheating on his wife.” David shrugged. “Do you suppose that marriage of theirs will last much longer, Daniel? Viktor seems to think so.”

“I think it’s ridiculous to try to apply mortal ideas of marriage on us,” said Daniel, blunt and honest. “It’s one thing to trade a ring and be like, love you babe, you’re special to me! And it’s a whole other thing to promise monogamy for eternity. Who can even manage that for fifty mortal years? Not everyone.”

“Ah! Something we can agree on. That is what I keep trying to explain to them. But Lestat believes this is their first ‘lifetime’ together, and Rose should have her prince charming all to herself. Viktor only wants to please his father.”

Daniel scoffed, wishing he had another coffee. He just really liked being warm; maybe he would ask Armand to take him to Hawaii after all. “I don’t get it. Honestly, I really wish I would have gotten a chance to talk to those two before they were made.” He sighed. “I spent twelve years begging for it… Maybe Viktor was ready, but I worry for Rose. It’s still a fairy story for her.”

David waved the server over and ordered another tea for himself and a coffee for Daniel. “There seems to be a lot of sudden spousing up in the castle lately. As you said, find a fancy ring and call them your one and only favorite…” David eyed Daniel. “Why Daniel, I could give you this gold fountain pen I keep with me always and call us married suddenly… How do you suppose the rest of the coven would react?”

“Considering my history, they would have me committed to a mental ward by dawn,” he said dryly, somewhat pleased at being treated to a caffeinated hand warmer. “And you’d probably be in the room next to me, David. You’re handsome, and I admire your wit, but I prefer my men short.”

“Really? Marius is quite tall. Or are you saying Armand is the only one you’ve been with?” David slid his hands around his tea and enjoyed the feel of it and the smell of the brew. He looked up slowly at Daniel. “I could fix that for you, Daniel. I fixed it for Viktor.” He smiled.

“You’re creating a false split, David,” said Daniel, smiling to the waitress who brought him his coffee. He wrapped it right in his hands. “I’ve never been intimate in a mortal way with Marius, but that doesn’t make Armand my only.”

David was silent, his thoughts turned inward. “I don’t really care,” he said quietly. “I’m trying to rattle you again.” He looked away. “Perhaps I should go now.”

Daniel didn’t answer, but he frowned deeply, a little put out. He was…lonely…without Armand here, without Marius, without his old friend, Louis… David wasn’t the worst attention he could hold.

David sighed a bit and smiled at Daniel, having read his feelings of needing companionship. “I understand. I’m locked away in that tower with not much interaction, myself.” He crossed one leg over the other. “I’ll stay awhile longer. But I don’t know what to talk about with you, as we have this strained relationship… I like you, you know.”

“…Define that,” said Daniel, feeling for a moment like he had his old tape recorder in front of him. “What do you mean you like me? Sexually? Romantically? To fuck with me?”

Such a direct question. David felt somewhat proud of Daniel for jumping on it like that. He crossed his arms and thought about what he had meant. Why did he like Daniel? “I like to talk with you because you can keep up with my banter quite easily.” He eyed Daniel a moment. “I have a pretty strong desire to drink your blood, so I’m going to go with sexually, too. But don’t let that go to your head. I mean I raped and assaulted you to get it before, so it’s not exactly a romantic declaration now, is it?

Daniel set his coffee aside, staring straight at David from across the table. In a voice low enough for only another vampire could hear he said, “What would you do next time? Say I gave you a night, one night, where you could follow me, do as you wanted, hunt me. What would you do?”

The vicious thirst to _hunt_ Daniel suddenly threatened to rear its head. David held the eye-contact, because he simply refused to look away from it. “That is a dangerous question, Daniel,” he replied, voice low. With an iron will, and some help from the meds, he pushed back the instinct to drag Daniel into the alley and tear his throat out now. “I think I would hunt you through the streets for some time. Wear you down. Corner you in some back alley and have my way.”

“Tell me what your way would be,” Daniel pressed on. Details, always wanting more details, as thirsty for a story as he was for blood… It had been some time since he felt that old writer’s spark again. “Let’s say I allowed anything that didn’t bring me lasting damage. Would you just take my blood, or would you want to claim me in the mortal way too? If you even can, with your meds,” he added with a dangerous abandon. No one ever said Molloy made good choices.

David smiled slowly at Daniel. “You just want all the information, don’t you? Where’s the fun when it happens, then?” He glanced away and then back quickly. “Suffice to say, the meds don’t affect me hunting-wise or sexually.” David leaned forward slightly as well, “And how do you want me to do it, Daniel? Because I get the feeling you do.”

“I like being taken.” He never broke David’s look, never turned away to be shy. Those moments of weakness, those tired glances and submissive shrugs, those weren’t him. At least, they weren’t supposed to be. Not him, not Daniel, who took a vampire’s story to the world. “I developed a taste for it with Armand, you see, and there’s no rush like running, and finally being cornered, seeing the predator approach and knowing there isn’t an out.”

David was not sure he was actually hearing these words from Daniel, or if he was perhaps having some hallucinatory reaction to the medication suddenly. “You are admitting to me that you enjoy being hunted, cornered, taken.” He wanted to ask why, then, had Daniel fought back so hard in the library? But David didn’t want to see him back away from this conversation, so he held his tongue. “Daniel,” he said in a deeply seductive voice, “If ever we do this, I want written consent this time around.”

“I can do that,” he said without reservation, dead serious. “I miss being sought after. Don’t get me wrong at all here; I’m in love with Armand, I’m happy with Armand. But he’s taken to treating me like spun glass. And I love it, I do, it’s nice to be looked after and spoiled, but I’d like to be beat around a bit, too.”

If he’d been actually drinking his tea, David was sure he would have choked on it. He looked around the cafe for any other vampires he may have not noticed. “Are you setting me up, Daniel? Define beat around?”

“I’m not setting you up,” he swore, showing upturned palms. “I’ll choose Armand over a single other soul in this world any day, and I don’t want him going after you. I won’t provoke you. As for your second question…”

Daniel thought quietly. Plane trips, train rides, so many nights running, days running, hotels and churches and bath houses and huts and anywhere he hoped could give him sanctuary. Blood kisses and nails to his back and knives to his throat—it made his heart race as he shared these images with David.

David’s eyes narrowed and darkened a gold-brown as he took in those images. He tried to hide the immediate effect it had on him, but his breath quickened. “You better not be provoking me, you fucking little tease,” David growled from across the table, eyes fixed on Daniel. “Maybe you wouldn’t be such a tease if you were getting properly—” He cut himself off from finishing that sentence.

David leaned across the table and sent an equally detailed image to Daniel of exactly what he would do to him, with all the filthy details in brightly painted color and heat. Again, he gave Daniel a slow smile. “When do you want this, Daniel?”

“Surprise me,” said Daniel in a breathless voice, heart pounding.

He hated himself for this. He knew what David has done to him was wrong, illegal, immoral, knew he’d been out of his mind, but Daniel couldn’t help what it had reignited in him after the fact.

Daniel wasn’t ready to ask what that said about him.

David took out his gold pen from his pocket, grabbed one of the little cafe flyer advertisements that was laying on the table and turned it over to the blank side. Quickly, he scrawled out a thorough statement consenting to exactly what they were talking about here. He pushed the paper over to Daniel and held the pen out to him, like offering a poison apple. “Sign,” he drawled seductively.

Daniel Molloy was not as stupid as people assumed. Too many in the coven saw only the idiot minion, the poor thing with a sick mind clinging to Marius. But this was only a twisted half-image of him. He read over the paper, crossing out a few lines, making amendments in his own writing, before scrawling his signature at the bottom and snapping a photo of it with his phone.

David took the signed paper and folded it carefully, placing it in his coat pocket. He leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other again.

“Daniel, Daniel, Daniel…” He couldn’t help the slightly wicked lilt to his tone. He eyed him there across the table with his ashen hair and purple eyes. Silently, he considered how he would play this game and when to start it.

Daniel just sat still, a ghost of a smile on his pale lips, wondering how the hell he was going to hide this agreement from the others.

“So Daniel,” David said after some time of silence between them. “Are you going to willingly accept my blood during these…sessions? Or are you going to spit it back at me? Because you’re bound to need something to heal all the…bruising. Otherwise, Armand may well start to question it.”

 _Jesus_. Daniel hadn’t been able to forget the taste of David’s blood. He disagreed with what Lestat had once written, that all vampiric blood tasted the same; he could tell immediately the difference between Armand’s to Marius’s, and then to David’s. David’s blood was almost tangy, acidic, not sweet like Armand’s at all. “Only if you make me need it.”

David scowled a little. “You’ve essentially signed a document in which we agree I’ll make you need it, Daniel.”

“Then fucking drain me,” Daniel challenged, leaning back against the metal chair at this cafe patio. “That’s what Armand threatened to do a dozen times but never did it. He didn’t want to have to mind after me. I want to be useless under you.”

David raised a brow and couldn’t help the sudden thirst for him this incited. But here they were in a very public setting, which Daniel obviously knew. “I did drain you, Daniel, and you were useless under me once before… And you didn’t take the blood willingly.”

David reached suddenly across the table and grabbed him by the collar, dragging him close. David bit hard into his own tongue, feeling the sharp pain, the taste of his own blood. He hungrily kissed Daniel, one hand fisted in his hair to hold him still as he fed on this kiss, turning it into something erotic and hard and needy. Oblivious to the mortals at the surrounding tables.

Daniel tried to be less oblivious to what would be a very attentive and unwanted audience, but it was hard to give a shit once the blood touched his tongue. It was an immediate pleasure, and he gripped the edge of the table tight. These mortals could never understand what a kiss could be to them, to their kind. He was dizzy from just a taste, even with the blood of the hunt still hot beneath his skin.

David let go of Daniel abruptly. He stood and gave him a meaningful look. “You may regret this, Daniel. I’ll be seeing you around.” With those words he left him there at the cafe.

\----------------------------

_Text conversation between Armand and Daniel_

Armand: Sorry I didn’t make it home last night…should be tonight. Maybe Monday

Daniel: k. Whatcha up to?

Armand: …working.

Daniel: ….you don’t have a job

Armand: On general things, you cretin. Managing the Paris house, all my accounts, organizing another dive for :money_with_wings::money_mouth:

Daniel: Ok. Miss you. Not really anyone to talk to without you or Marius

Armand: Where is Marius?

Daniel: idk he went on vacation or something. he didn’t fucking tell me

Daniel: didn’t tell you either I guess

Armand: No

Armand: I miss you too, darling. We’ll go somewhere special. What are you up to, yourself?

Daniel: _[read 11:49pm]_

\-------------------------------

On Monday night, David was at the desk in the parlor of Lestat’s tower, reading a text Gremt had asked him to quickly review for a research project the Talamasca was doing. He made notes in a journal as he read. Although vampires all mostly kept out of the Talamasca’s business now, once in a while, they would get involved on murky issues the members needed help with. And it kept David busy and distracted from getting himself into more trouble, so he gladly accepted the job.

Lestat entered the room from the interior stairs that led up from Louis’s apartment below. “Look,” he said lightly. “I’ve brought someone to keep you company.” In his arms, he held a stately looking long-haired white cat with yellow eyes. She squirmed, and Lestat let her down on top of David’s desk.

David quickly backed away from the desk. “What?!” He tried to grab the texts before the cat could lie atop them and he couldn’t get them back. “Why would you bring that to me?” He stood back from the desk. “I don’t like cats.”

Lestat laughed, too amused, and leaned over the desk to scritch the cat under its chin as if it had completed a job well done. “She’s Rose’s new pet. I’m borrowing her for the evening. You’ll survive.” Leaving her on the desk, he came around to David’s side. The cat sat down and proceeded to stare at them judgmentally. “You only like cats you can kill,” he said, recalling David’s old tiger rug.

David glared at the cat and did consider doing something to it. “Rude,” he said to Lestat as he looked David over to see if the new dosage of medication was working any better.

David met Lestat’s look with clear eyes. “I’m not insane, Lestat. Stop looking at me like that.”

Lestat blinked. “I’m not!” Pressing his lips together, he tried to stop peering at him. But from what he’d seen already, David seemed pretty much himself. Lestat let himself be satisfied by that.

He gestured to the cat. “Rose hasn’t given her a proper name yet. So I suppose you can just call her Your Highness for now. But Rose and Viktor need some time alone,” he explained as to why David now had to babysit the cat for the evening. “You don’t really have to do anything much. She’s self-sufficient. I’ll be back for her before dawn.”

“What?!” David glared at Lestat. “This cat will be dead by dawn if you leave me with it,” he snarled. “I’ll name it Princess Snack Time for David. And then you can return to Rose another thing I defiled for her.”

Lestat’s eyes narrowed and his gaze became even more scrutinizing as he evaluated David’s reaction. “You will not harm a hair on that innocent creature,” he said in a low, even voice, the edge of a threat to his tone.

David stood still. The sound of that edge in Lestat’s voice was familiar enough to cause a self-preservation instinct in him. He glanced back to the cat on his desk. It was cleaning its long fur with a delicate tongue.

“Is this a test? See if David will keep safe something precious to Rose?” He looked away and rolled his eyes lightly. “It’s transparent, but okay. I’ll keep her fleabag alive for you.” He reached over to get the journals from the desk. He would have to sit on the couch now to do this work.

“She has no fleas!” Lestat scoffed, offended. “And it’s not a test. It’s a task. Tests can be failed, and I wouldn’t make a test of something precious to Rose. You will _not_ fail.” Lestat would be perfectly horrified if David actually did do anything to harm the cat. He probably would never be able to look at David the same way again. But he was assured David would never cross that line.

David took all his materials to the couch and placed them on the coffee table. He eyed Lestat, looking him up and down and feeling the usual deep affection for him simmering. He went back and slid up close to Lestat. He placed a kiss on his cheek, then his lips. “I missed you. Where did you go?”

The affection surprised Lestat after David’s hostile reaction, but he did not refuse it, putting a hand against David’s side. “Just down to Monte Carlo,” he answered. Then he smiled a little as if remembering something particularly pleasant about it.

David gazed at Lestat’s face. He looked relaxed. “Monte Carlo, how James Bond of you. Did you order martinis and pretend to be foreign spies?” he teased playfully.

Lestat chuckled softly, taking a moment to enjoy the look in David’s eyes. “No one would ever mistake me for foreign.” His hand pressed David affectionately before he moved to take a seat in one of the chairs by the hearth. “It was Rose’s first time going. She loved every minute of it.”

David followed and sat in the chair opposite, feeling drawn to Lestat’s presence, as he always was, hoping he could keep him here at least for a little while tonight. “Well then, when we go, we will play spies.” He rested an arm on the chair and curled one finger under his chin as he gazed at Lestat, an amused smile still on his lips. “And how is Rose? Did you buy her everything under the moon? Where is my hat?”

“In one of our bags. Too many to sort through. Because, yes. We bought absolutely every last thing under the moon. But don’t worry, I’ll find the hat for you. And you’ll look so dashing. It’s black and gold. Has a nice, rounded…” He drew a semicircle out from his forehead with a fingertip. “…beak?” He’d forgotten the English word for such hideous hats. “I expect you to wear it in the next family photograph.”

David didn’t like the sound of that. He dropped his hand to his lap and looked away. The cat was now examining the room, rubbing its head against the side of the couch, the coffee table legs, and anything with an edge to it.

He frowned at it, then returned his gaze to Lestat. How handsome he was, with his white-gold hair and his eyes a bright blue tonight. Lion-like. “I wish I could read you,” David said quietly. “I don’t know what you want from me anymore.”

“Why should I want anything from you?” Lestat asked, though his tone was gentler, genuine. He tilted his head against the back of the chair as he looked David over. There were plenty of things he _didn_ _’t_ want from David right now, and those included madness, hostility, and frisson between them. Lestat would be quite satisfied if all those things disappeared and their relationship could go back to how it had always been. But he knew it was unfair to resent David for these issues when it was the fault of the brain in his host body.

“David, I want you to be well again. And I want…” He paused with a faint frown, but then shook his head dismissively. If David were well, everything else would fall into place.

David gave Lestat a warm smile. “I _am_ well again. Why, can’t you tell?” He glanced at the cat, which was rubbing along his pant leg now, leaving a trail of white fur on the black material. “You see, crazy David would have immediately snapped the neck of this feline for what it is doing right now. But I’m not doing so, am I?”

“And what is she doing?” Lestat countered. “But showing you the interest and affection you deserve.” He smirked a little as he watched the sight, delighting in David’s effort at tolerance.

“If you’re so well,” Lestat added after a moment, “then you’ll be able to come to the grand party I’m planning.” He doubted David was anywhere near completely cured, and certainly feared relapse, especially considering how hostile he’d been a few minutes ago. But Lestat wanted to hope.

David looked up from the cat. “A party? What is the occasion? When is it?” A party would be a good opportunity to escape this tower and show that he could mingle and not go into rage mode.

David thought back to his recent meeting with Daniel in Paris, and he considered telling Lestat. To show him he had not harmed Daniel, and that was a true test. But he feared Lestat would see it only as David breaking another rule. He wasn’t meant to go anywhere near Daniel yet.

“Believe it or not,” Lestat began, unable to refrain from laughing as he said it. “The occasion is Gregory’s birthday.” He shook his head, still finding the notion of a birthday party for a vampire extremely droll. “In about two weeks.”

He continued to watch the cat, and wanted to reach over to pick it up and hold it in his lap, but he refrained so that David would continue to have the maximum cat experience. “He asked me to plan an event. He thinks I’ve been too idle…”

Two weeks? David didn’t like that. It meant he was expected to remain another two weeks here. He froze as the cat jumped up on the arm of the chair and sat there with its long tail swishing far too close to David’s black suit coat. He turned his eyes back to Lestat and saw the amusement there.

“Did you say birthday for Gregory?” David laughed suddenly. “What does one even get a man that old for his birthday? Do we sing the ‘happy birthday’ song to him?” He shook his head, sharing the amusement with Lestat. “Should there be invitations? I can help you with this, if you like. I have nothing else to do here, except occasional work from the Talamasca.”

“I think…yes,” Lestat mused. “He wants the full birthday experience. Singing, invitations, balloons, cake.” He had to laugh again. Cake… what would they do with it after? Feed it to the birds? “Yes, help me. Why don’t you. I’m not as idle as Gregory imagines. I still have an entire government to oversee.”

“The full birthday experience?” David shook his head and smiled again at the idea. “Well, you tell me the details and which things I can do, and I will.” The cat had sank down on the arm of the chair, as cats often do, in the form of a bread loaf. David ignored it as best he could.

He was quiet for a long moment, watching Lestat. “I’m sorry I seduced, Viktor… Well, no that isn’t true… I’m sorry if I hurt you or Rose because of it.”

Lestat frowned and a soft sigh passed his lips as he gazed across the hearth rug at David. He was only a few feet away. If Lestat just leaned over, he could reach David’s knee. It would be so simple to touch him that way…

Lestat pressed his fingertips together in his lap. “It hurts that you did it just because you were bored… You don’t even know the boy.”

David looked back at him suddenly. “I didn’t do it just because I was bored. I feel like I already explained why I did it. And I _do_ know him, Lestat. We’ve had our share of lengthy conversations over the years. We aren’t complete strangers. And besides, how well did you know the first man you had relations with before you did so? There’s no requirement that one have deep knowledge of a person first. I feel like you’ve become very holier than thou lately, Lestat. I don’t know why.” David looked away, regretting that he’d brought this up again.

Lestat’s eyes narrowed as he stared across at David, but he didn’t move otherwise, becoming very still in his chair. Lestat still often felt like he barely even knew Viktor himself, and he didn’t like the implication that David might know him better than Lestat did.

What it really came down to was that Viktor was _Lestat_ _’s_ , and David had taken something of Lestat’s for himself, and he didn’t like it at all. But he knew if he tried to explain that to David, he wouldn’t stand for it. So he didn’t bother.

“You think I’m judging you?” Lestat asked, rather taken aback by that accusation.

David looked away with a heavy sigh. The cat was purring for some odd reason. He hated cats.

He did feel a bit judged by Lestat, but David could handle that. He never really let others’ judgments bother him much. He didn’t want this to turn into another angry disagreement, but it seemed like a thing they needed to discuss.

“It’s not judgment of myself that I’m concerned with. It’s judgment of Viktor. You are playing an extremely sexist favoritism with your children. Viktor wants nothing more in this world than your approval, and he is sick with guilt over this thing. And yes, Rose was the one hurt most, but he is no less upset right now. You are brushing him off rather harshly, if you ask me. They are youngsters who got married far too early, considering they are immortals. Give him a little leeway to mess up once in a while. Were you so perfect at his age?”

Lestat wasn’t expecting _that_ at all. Well, of course, he held Viktor to _standards_ … but those were only because Viktor had set them up for himself to start with! The well-bred boy Lestat had met seven years ago had been someone he never would have dreamed would break his beloved Rose’s heart.

“I was traveling across Egypt with my mother at his age,” he said dryly. Certainly nowhere near any kind of romantic entanglements. He shook his head. “Of course he’ll make blunders… It happens. I don’t expect him to be perfect.”

Except…Lestat kind of did expect that. Viktor _had_ been perfect all this time. Absolutely perfect. Everything Lestat wished he could have been himself if his own life had not been so terrible. It hurt so much to see that illusion fall… How was Lestat supposed to move on from that?

David scowled as the cat slid from the chair arm and onto his lap. He scowled a lot. He considered lifting it and placing it on the floor, but that would likely give Lestat too much satisfaction to watch. He remained still and let the thing lie there.

When he looked up again, Lestat was pensive and seemed to be thinking on what David had said. “Well, if you don’t expect him to be perfect, then why can’t you just relieve his present state of distress a little at least? Just text him a nice word or so. He’s conflicted over all of it and needs to know you don’t hate him now.”

David certainly seemed to know a lot about Viktor’s emotional state. Especially considering Viktor had gone out of his way to tell Lestat he wouldn’t be coming up here. “You’ve been talking to him,” Lestat surmised, trying not to sound too accusatory.

David shrugged lightly. “I have. Not in person. He’s keeping his distance, as he promised.”

“I’ll speak to him,” Lestat said after another pensive minute. “Properly, in person. Not over text.” He shrugged a little stiffly, his hands flattening on his lap before moving to grip the end of his chair’s arms. “He always knows where to find me.”

The cat certainly looked majestic in David’s lap like that, and Lestat found it difficult to let any of these thoughts affect him too heavily when David was so obviously miserable with something so adorable.

David stared at the cat, willing it to move away. “Why does it like me?” He looked pleadingly to Lestat for some sort of help with this thing. “I don’t like cats, Lestat. One attacked me as a small child, and I never got past that.”

Lestat laughed, a soft, deep sound. “David, you’re a hundred years old. Don’t you think it’s time you got over it?” he teased.

David lifted the cat carefully, stood up himself, and turned and placed it in his seat. He then began brushing the fur from his clothing. He took the opportunity to lean over Lestat, tilted his head up with one finger under his chin, and kissed him sweetly. “I love you, my maker. Even though you brought this hideous animal here to me.”

Again, the affection surprised Lestat, and he felt his heartbeat flutter at the tenderness of the kiss. So often, David was rough with him, and moments like this caught Lestat off-guard. It almost made him feel sorry for teasing David so cruelly with the poor cat.

Lestat put a hand around David’s head to keep him from withdrawing, and looked up into his eyes for silent, serious moment.

David returned the look, sensing something in Lestat, though he couldn’t define it, his own pulse quickening slightly. “Please stay and sleep with me today. I don’t like sleeping alone. You go off to the crypts every day. I just want you in the bed with me. Can’t you give me that?”

Lestat remained quiet for another moment, not giving any indication whether he would say yes or no, or even if he were thinking about it. He tilted his face up and kissed David again, a little more heavily than he had before. And then he pushed up out of his chair to stand, straightening David with him, not letting him go. “You say that like I never give you anything…”

David had returned this second kiss readily and almost turned it to something more before Lestat stood. David looked away, uncharacteristically shy for just an instant. “Of course you give me plenty… Just rarely what I really want. Which is you.”

Lestat’s eyes narrowed again as if he might become offended or angry, but then he only put a hand to David’s face, pressing it to make him look back at him. “Would you still want me to stay,” he asked after a scrutinizing moment, “if I told you I wouldn’t let you take any blood this time?”

David was surprised by this. He looked seriously at Lestat. “Of course. Why do you think blood is part of this? I just want you with me in the bed. I didn’t mean blood at all.”

Lestat looked unconvinced, but his fingertips moved gently against David’s hairline at his temple. Sometimes Lestat missed his old eyes so keenly it hurt. He could still see David in these eyes, but harder to read now, another degree of separation between them.

“I’ll stay,” he agreed finally.

David laughed lightly. “I can’t believe I have to convince you simply to lie in a bed with me. Remember when we were both mortals, going after the body thief? All you wanted was to get me into bed, and for far more than just sleeping.”

“Well, you’ve been pissing me off, lately,” Lestat said, only half-seriously. He smiled at David a little, though his eyes retained their somewhat dark look. He did have other reasons for keeping his distance from David, but he didn’t even want to admit those to himself, much less aloud.

“Stop being this way,” David said softly. He kissed Lestat again. “I’m trying.” He glanced at the time on the mantle clock. “I’m tired, and I’m going in now to lie down. You do whatever you want. I know you still have time left before dawn comes for you.”

Lestat let David go to the bedroom. He stared at the cat for a lingering moment, but then smiled at her and took his phone out of his pocket. He sent two quick texts and then tossed his phone on the chair and followed David into the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as you can probably tell from the writing style, this fic was written by multiple people. I am now acting as the humble update fairy, bringing you the chapters 1 day at a time. I made this anonymous account specifically for posting group co-written fics. I don't want to take more credit for this story than I'm due, so you should know that I only write the Lestat parts of this story (so far. In future chapters, I start writing other characters as well). There are five of us co-authors, and I just wanted to let you know our breakdown, in case it adds at all to your reading enjoyment :)
> 
> Me: Lestat (+more in the future)  
> J: Louis, Marius, Fareed  
> T: Armand, Thorne (+more in the future)  
> D: David, Gregory, Santh  
> S: Daniel, Viktor (+more in the future)
> 
> Even though we all manage separate characters, we do all work together to plan out plot and story arcs of the fic to keep it plot-driven and not just meandering. But still, the best thing I can compare it to is a soap opera. And if you think it's been #dramatic so far, you ain't seen nothing yet! We started writing this story together last June, and so far you've only read up to the start of August. When I put that it would have 200 chapters, that was just my conservative estimate. It might be more by the time we finally get to the ending we have planned. 😁
> 
> Please keep leaving us comments! I share all your comments with my co-authors, and we absolutely live for hearing your reactions to our gay vampire nonsense. ❤


	29. The Secret Passage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armand comes clean with Daniel before realizing Gregory might not be as over things as he thought. Meanwhile, Viktor and Lestat have a heart to heart about love and Louis.

Armand entered Daniel’s room without knocking, a copy of the latest Assassin’s Creed game in hand. Daniel wasn’t a flowers or diamonds kind of man, and Armand appreciated that. But either way, he felt he had some making up to do for not being around for three nights in a row. “Hello, darling.”

Daniel perked up as his lover swept in. “Hey babe,” he greeted, extending an arm out to offer a warm seat next to him on his couch. He’d been writing, in theory, but had gotten distracted with an article talking about 19th century bathroom fixtures, as one does. “You get your _work_ done?”

“I…ah…have a confession to make, my love,” Armand said quietly, nestling beside his fledgling and planting a kiss to his cheek before placing the game on his lap. “I wasn’t working, I was with Gregory. I only didn’t want to tell you because I knew you might worry the whole time.”

Daniel appraised Armand; he wasn’t bullshitting, that was obvious, but it sounded like bullshit. Oh sure, he knew Armand had a thing for Gregory, or at least thought he was sexy; aside from tall blonds, Armand couldn’t help but fall for powerful older men. But this was so soon after…well, whatever had happened in the woods to leave those scars all over Armand’s body. “Ok, so you were…working…with Gregory then?”

“I was… _with_ Gregory. Gregory was working, at times, he had a conference. But…define working,” Armand murmured almost sheepishly, almost lost for words for once. He’d thought Daniel might have gathered the true nature of what had happened just by the simple admission, but he had asked about it, and now Armand felt considerably guiltier.

“Will you not look at the video game? You’ve been talking about it.” Armand tapped the thing, hoping it might take the brunt of Daniel’s attention.

Daniel ignored it, not wanting to be won over as easily as a twelve year old. He set it aside without looking at it. “So you were just getting laid all weekend?” he asked, feeling like an idiot unable to string together a coherent thought. “I mean…legit. It’s Gregory. I’d do him, but like…he was stabbing into your spleen like a week ago… That’s masochistic even for you.”

Armand sighed, looking down at his hands as he thought. “I can’t pretend to understand it. But I wouldn’t worry. I don’t think I’ll be seeing much more of him now. I think he got me out of his system,” he murmured, looking up at Daniel then to gauge his thoughts. “I am sorry. Are you angry with me?”

Was he? And if so, about what? Daniel leaned back onto his couch, trying to imagine Gregory kissing up those burn wounds, the cuts that looked like white scars now. And he was a little disturbed by how much such an image almost…turned him on? Naw, fuck that…but… “If you were texting Marius and found out he’d lied about where he was all weekend, how would you feel?”

Armand thought on this for a while. “…Angry. But he has had a long history of keeping things from me, and he knows how I hate it, how I’ve given up getting anything from him at all. I did it so you weren’t wracked with worry all weekend! If I’d told you where I was and what I was doing, you look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn’t have worried.”

Daniel couldn’t “Yeah, I probably would have grabbed Thorne or someone and made him hunt you down for me,” he spilled with a shrug and not an ounce of shame. “I’d have figured you were going off the deep end on some self-hatred again. Cause, I mean. You do that, you crazy son of a bitch.”

“Maybe I did. Maybe that’s what it was.” Armand shrugged, not in the least bit offended by Daniel’s words. He was used to them, and he was looking for an explanation. “But either way, there wasn’t an inch of abuse involved, all right? I enjoyed it. I’m sure it is over now for him, and I am sorry I lied to you.”

Daniel wasn’t sure what to make of that promise, considering he and Armand sometimes had…conflicting views of what abuse was, views Daniel usually kept to himself. But Gregory was a decent guy, wasn’t he? Apart from that forest thing, and Daniel was trying his damndest to separate out that act from it being done to his maker. “Ok. I just worry for you. And I don’t like you lying to me… I only really have you, Marius and Louis here, Armand.” And now Marius was off on his _vacation._

“I won’t lie to you again. I felt awful not coming home. But I’m here now, and I’m all yours,” Armand promised, looking up into Daniel’s eyes. “Is there anything I can do?”

…Yeah, Daniel immediately felt like the biggest ass in the castle right now, and that was a high bar to fly over. Shit. What right did he have wanting honestly from Armand when he was quietly planning a…time…with the man Armand had been punished for going after?

But then, Armand had taken Lestat’s blood by force once in the past, and they still loved each other. And David had just been having…a bad week…

“Don’t worry about it babe,” Daniel backpedaled. “Come on, play this game with me? Or you can finish your book while I play.”

“I’ll watch you. It’s set in Ancient Greece, isn’t it?” Armand smiled brightly, pressing a kiss to Daniel’s cheek and moving away to let him up. “But you didn’t answer my text the other night. What did you get up to yourself this weekend?”

“By myself? Trouble as always,” he teased, slicing his nail through the shrink wrap. He kissed Armand’s cheek in thanks for the gift. “I do miss you. And Marius and Louis are so busy… I need friends,” he finished with a self-deprecating laugh. “Maybe I should find other wannabe authors in the coven.”

“What kind of trouble?” Armand smirked, genuinely wanting to know. He watched as Daniel set up the game before pulling him back down to sit with him. “You don’t need friends. I’m the center of your universe,” he jested. “I’ll take you next time, with Gregory, as we were meant to go to his TED Talk before all of that nasty business.”

“You joke babe, but you kinda are the center of my world.” Daniel chuckled softly and made a nice cozy spot on the couch for the two of them, loving the way Armand curled right up to him. “I tried doing some research for an article; there’s some independent ones about Paris I’m trying to get into, but my French is still… A work in progress.”

“Well, as the center of your universe, I’m sure I can take the time to help you improve it.” Armand smiled, pressing a kiss to Daniel’s throat and combing a hand through his hair. “I am after all, an honorary Frenchman.”

Daniel leaned over for another kiss, a deeper one, savoring the contact. “I think Marius found me a lost cause in Latin, but I think my French and Italian could actually improve if I tried. And if you can manage to be any sort of competent teacher,” he finished tauntingly, because it seemed Daniel really didn’t know when to have an instinct for self-preservation these days.

Armand frowned and smacked Daniel in the chest, though he wasn’t offended. Not really. He’d missed him. “I’ve learned from the best teacher around, Daniel, so watch your mouth unless you want to feel the wrong end of my switch.”

“Is that a promise?” Daniel asked wickedly, only half serious. He didn’t want to get beat around in bed the same way Armand so enjoyed; he just needed some excitement back in this stuffy castle life.

“Absolutely, you feisty bastard,” Armand quipped, climbing onto Daniel’s lap to straddle him and leaning down to whisper against his lips. “I’ll whip you within an inch of your life, then give you an hour’s head start to chase you all the way to Tokyo again,” he purred.

“That’s hardly fair.” Daniel grinned, eyes crinkling up delightedly behind his glasses. “You can fly, and I’m far too young to do so. You’ll catch up before I’m even on a damned plane!”

“Two hours, then. You managed it when you were mortal, Daniel, don’t play coy. Halfway around the world, I chased you,” he murmured, pulling back to watch the way Daniel’s eyes lit up…as if he enjoyed this. Had Armand been too negligent lately?

“Forget the video game, Daniel. Go now, anywhere, and I’ll set off two hours after. You don’t want to know what I’ll do when I get my hands on you,” he growled, every inch the beast he used to be in that moment.

Daniel appraised his maker, his lover, knowing he could hear his heart racing, just as it had been with David in the cafe. Ask and you shall receive, then. “Don’t you mean _if_ you catch me, Boss? Remember, you’re deaf to me now.”

“No, Daniel, _when_ I catch you,” Armand snapped, a rage and a hunger in his eyes as he grabbed his fledgling by the throat. He had his ways. Daniel’s scent, for one, and he could trick many blood drinkers into giving him information. “And do not expect mercy. I am your Boss. You’ll relearn that soon enough. Get out.”

Well…fine. This is what Daniel wanted, wasn’t it? This thrill, this chase, he needed this. He needed to be out, he needed something to occupy his endless hours and lonely rooms.

Fine, then. With a rough, fanged kiss he separated, grabbed a jacket and his wallet, and was immediately out of Armand’s sight.

Armand sighed as he watched him leave, falling back onto the couch and wiping Daniel’s blood from his chin. He didn’t want to do this, not particularly, but Daniel seemed to need it, and Armand would be damned before he was called a neglectful maker again. So he would wait the two hours, and then set off on his task. Maybe he would take a nap while he waited.

  
\-----------------------

_Text conversation between Gregory and Armand_

Gregory: I’m thinking of you……

Armand: Are you really? That’s a pleasant surprise. What are you thinking?

Gregory: Don’t play coy. I’ve had you under me, on top of me, and every way in between. Of course I’m thinking of you.

Armand: I’m glad to see I’m still in your system. Is someone a little bit addicted? :pinching_hand:

Gregory: Addicted would be putting it lightly.

Armand: :kissing_heart::kissing_heart::kissing_heart: what do you miss the most about me?

Gregory: I miss the smell of you, the taste of you, the sound of you, the feel of you. Don’t make me go into more detail. I’m in the middle of a meeting.

Armand: Sneaking texts to me during a meeting? You are in love with me!

Gregory: I send texts to my assistant during meetings too. I’m not in love with her.

Armand: Once you’re done, come over and prove how not in love with me you are. I’m waiting.

_[Picture of himself in bed]_

Gregory: Why are you sending me distractions like this in the middle of meetings? I’m not coming to your rooms. You go to my office and wait for me.

Armand: Are you really going to make me leave this bed?

_[Picture of himself pouting]_

Gregory: You are really making this meeting difficult for me. No. Put on your clothes. Go to my room. Take them off again.

Armand: yes sir…dressed and ready to go :kissing_heart:

_[Picture of himself in a large white dress shirt and nothing else]_

Gregory: Is that my shirt? How did you get that?

Armand: Men get sloppy in the face of addiction. You left it.

Gregory: I’ll let you keep it, seeing as it looks so good on you.

Armand: A trash bag looks good on me. But I’ll take it since it still smells of you. Get up here and ravage me.

Gregory: So impatient. Go to my office and wait. I’ll be there soon enough.

Armand: Yes Captain, you’ll find me there.

Gregory: And don’t touch yourself until I get there.

Armand: Bastardo.

Gregory: That definitely earns you some punishment beforehand. I hope you’ve fed well recently.

Armand: Maybe I won’t go, if you’re going to punish me then. Maybe you’ll have to go without me another night.

Gregory: …

Gregory: What are you doing to me?

Armand: Absolutely nothing, I’m just in my rooms minding my business

Gregory: Come on, Armand. I’ll be cruel and gentle at the same time.

Armand:…Beg me.

Gregory: I won’t beg. However, I will show up at your door and physically take you to my office.

Armand: I’ll go to Lestat and have you persecuted for abduction.

Gregory: I’ll be sure to show Lestat every detail of everything I did with you in our hotel in Paris. Particularly the parts where you begged me to let you cum. So… let’s see how that plays out.

Armand: You’ll really come and abduct me?

Armand: Just because I wanted it then, doesn’t mean I want it now

To Gregory:…but I do want it.

Gregory: Armand, I expected all this to be less intense the more I had you. But I’m quickly losing my grip on it all.

Gregory: Just go to my fucking room, get undressed, and wait for me!

Armand: Spend a night with Chrysanthe, or Davis. That’ll take me right out of your mind. When did you last see them?

Gregory: Davis is in New York. Chrysanthe is in Versailles. But you’re right. I may just turn around and go see her instead. Or I can go find Santh, he’s always up for something hard and fast… and sometimes not so fast.

Armand: I’m always up for something hard, fast or slow. I’m trying to think of you Gregory.

Gregory: How are you trying to think of me with all this teasing? I want you right now, not them.

Armand: As long as you’re not losing your head. You’re too important for that. And I’ll throw my hat in the ring for the next time you and Santh see to each other. If I’m welcome.

Gregory: … oh really? Let me call him up right now.

Armand: That’ll look suspicious in your meeting.

Gregory: I can text him just like you. And the meeting is over. I’m already back at the Chateau, in my office, playing this childish texting game with you.

Gregory: You could be in here right now, with my cock in you, getting pounded on top of my particularly nice and shiny new desk. My fangs in your beautiful throat. But instead you’re teasing me over the wifi.

Armand: I want it.

Armand: But I’m worried.

Gregory: Why are you worried?

Armand: I’ve been in this chase before, and it drove Daniel to madness. And I’m not saying you cannot handle yourself, or even that you’re half as interested in me as you pretend to be. But you have too much on your shoulders to get consumed like this. You told me yourself, you don’t have time for it.

Gregory: My life has been carefully constructed and built up over the centuries to get to the level it is, and very little causes me to lose control over that. Don’t worry about my mental state. I was enslaved by a mad queen and her jealous king for a thousand years. I know how to keep a grip on my mental state.

Armand:…I can be there in five minutes, if you’re sure.

Gregory: Of course I’m sure. I just spent over an hour telling you I’m sure.

Armand: I’ll be there. Don’t reach out to Santh, I don’t want to share you.

Gregory: :heart:

—————————————————————

Viktor adored the castle, and sometimes found himself just wandering the halls, admiring every details of the tapestries and armor and paintings by his Maker, the elaborate stone work and gleaming floors. Rose was the one for fairy tales, but that didn’t mean Viktor couldn’t lose himself in thought for a while. So he circled the ballroom, remembering how well the sound of Antoine’s violin echoed off these walls. Above him, the faces of his coven, his family, painted in uncanny detail. Looking at his father’s image, he swore he could almost just hear his voice—

Oh. Shit. He could.

Lestat ended his phone call with the balloon retailer—balloon retailer!—and was thumbing through his contacts, looking for his favorite florist as he came into the ballroom to take some measurements.

He sensed Viktor before he saw him, and looked up slowly to fix his eyes on his son in the center of the room. Lestat smiled at him a little, because how could he not? Though it was nowhere near the enthusiasm with which he’d always usually greeted his son. “Looking for me?” he asked as he came into the vast room.

“Not on purpose!” said Viktor, his voice a little too high and his laugh a little too fast. He had been…ok he hasn’t been _avoiding_ his father, but he hadn’t been actively looking for him either. “I uh…I heard we’re having a party, huh?”

Lestat’s eyebrows went up, and he wondered if he should be offended. He stopped about six feet away from him and studied him silently for a minute, taking in everything from the tension in his expression to every thread he was wearing. And then his gaze broke and drifted around the room, evaluating how his plans would manifest. “That we are,” he answered.

He moved past Viktor over to the windows and touched the curtains thoughtfully. They would need to be replaced to mesh with the color scheme. “It will be formal,” he warned.

 _What did that mean?_ Viktor wondered immediately. He’d sounded almost judgmental about it, as though he didn’t think his own son had enough manners and etiquette to handle a formal ball? Well…Lestat did mock his clothes often. Tonight, he woke corduroy slacks and a soft wool sweater. Sure, it was simple and a bit plain, but they were nicely-cut clothes, and the violet color matched his eyes well. “Sure… I’ve been to a few already, Dad.”

Lestat’s head snapped back to look at Viktor when he called him that. He considered telling him not to, but thought it would come out a touch too cruel, even considering their circumstances. He let it go for now.

His hand slid off the curtain and he shrugged. “Gregory thinks we need a public event to boost morale. I’m not sure he’s right, but who am I to refuse him?”

“I think the castle could use some levity right now. Far too much medieval gloom, it feels, for such a lovely coven of blood drinkers.” Viktor stepped cautiously closer, wanting to prod into Lestat’s mind, but he still felt such a thing was somehow a breach of etiquette, rude. He rarely even did so with Rose.

“Yes, it’s rude,” Lestat confirmed, picking up on Viktor’s concern without even trying. He took a moment to glance at his phone, jotting down a note to himself about the curtains. “But what do you want to know, Viktor? You can just as well ask.”

It suddenly didn’t seem to matter if Lestat were picking up on his thoughts or anxieties at all, considering Viktor’s mind seemed to go totally blank. What _did_ he want to know, besides the assurance that his dad didn’t hate him? Maybe some deeply buried jealo—no. No Viktor wouldn’t say the word, not even in his most locked away thoughts. There could be no bitterness to Lestat, he adored him!

“Rose…I mean me and Rose…Rose and I are going to…were going away next weekend together!” he finally stammered out as though he’d just learned English yesterday.

Lestat nodded a little as if this was something he already knew, though whether he actually did or not was impossible to tell. “Do you need somebody to watch the cat?”

Finishing what he was typing, he slipped his phone in his pocket and finally looked at Viktor again. His eyes softened just a little as he took him in this time. “I am glad it is working between you…”

“Working…yeah, were working…” Oh, hell, Viktor could feel his anxiety welling up higher now, his absolute disgust at feeling so distant from Lestat and knowing it was his own doing.

“Rose really isn’t even mad, and I’m not just saying that because I want it to be true? We’re talking about it, and I mean it’s not like anything’s gonna happen, but it’s fine and natural to still find others attractive after you’re married you know.”

“Yes, I know,” Lestat said in a slightly gentler tone. He studied Viktor for another silent minute, finding it impossible not to be moved by him when he was standing there looking so beautifully befuddled.

“I trust you,” Lestat said abruptly, though he wasn’t sure why. Maybe because he wanted it to be true. But he knew Rose must still trust Viktor to be going through this with him, so that should be good enough for Lestat.

Viktor felt a little relief at this, however fleeting, and he let go of some of the tension in his back. “I’m so glad. And she does, too. She just needed time away, you see, but she’s alright now! And we’re going to—yeah can you watch the cat? She’s so sweet, so playful! Oh, and I’ll let you pick out whatever you want me to wear for Gregory’s birthday!”

Hearing Viktor keep insisting that Rose was all right, wasn’t angry, gave Lestat hope. He hated the idea of her being anything less than perfectly happy in her marriage. But if anyone could find a way past it, these two children could… Their love was so pure.

He nodded about babysitting the cat, thinking he’d bring it to his and Louis’s room this time. Louis liked cats, and it would give them something more interesting to do other than silently read or watch movies, like they usually did with all their time now.

He knew Viktor was only offering to let him dress him to try to win Lestat over. He doubted viktor was actually interested in fashion, but that wouldn’t stop Lestat from seizing the opportunity, and his smile spread slowly. “Send me your measurements.” It would be bespoke or nothing.

Viktor, having no idea what they were, made a mental note to ask Louis or someone about which tailor Lestat trusted most and to go to him for it. “Sure!”

How could this boy not know his own measurements?? He’d been a vampire for seven years now and hadn’t changed an inch. Surely he should know his own body by now. Lestat had a strong suspicion Viktor had been buying off the rack this entire time. Well, Lestat would remedy that.

“Uh…Dad? Do you think maybe we could talk sometime? I mean. I’m sure Rose is right about this just being a passing thing but, uh…” David’s face was still clear in his mind, and the feel of his cool lips something so different from Rose… “But let’s say it turns out it isn’t. A passing thing, I mean.”

Lestat’s expression fell when that strong image of David came from Viktor almost as if projected, though he could tell it wasn’t deliberate on Viktor’s part. Lestat’s gaze fell to the inlaid wood on the dance floor for a moment, and he nodded. Talk… yes, they probably should. And apparently, sometime meant _now_ , since Viktor was still going.

“Yes… There is something I should say.” Lestat hesitated, finding the words more difficult to form than he expected, and he met Viktor’s eyes again.

He decided to just get it out bluntly, no poetry. “I don’t want to share David with you.” Lestat had never before minded David’s other lovers, easily shared him with Louis. But Viktor was different. So different for so many reasons.

Lestat pushed on, even though it felt like a hand was squeezing his heart. “But if you decide you want him, you may have him. I know he wants you. I will let him go, and I step aside.” He knew Viktor wouldn’t do anything now until it was all right with Rose, but Lestat had the feeling it all was going to come to this point eventually, so it needed to be said.

Viktor’s stomach felt suddenly cold and bottomless, and he tried quickly to understand what his father had just said. _Have_ him…? But that wasn’t…

“Dad, no, I’m not going to take David from you!” He pressed forward to take Lestat’s hand, horrified at the thought. “He’s your lover, your fledgling! How cruel would I have to be—I made a cruel mistake, yes, we know this, but to plot out and seek something so selfish isn’t what I want! It’s…” He looked aside, still gripping Lestat’s hand. “It isn’t just David. There are…a lot of handsome, ah, men…around court…”

Lestat stared down at Viktor’s hand around his own, swallowing thickly. It was the exact same size, shape, everything…the only difference was the skin tone and the length of the glassy nails.

Lestat shook his head a little. He never would have thought Viktor would plot anything deliberately. Things would just…happen. That’s how it went. But he didn’t argue with Viktor about it now. What would be would be. And this would be David’s choice as well.

But if Viktor and David came together, then Lestat would leave the picture.

Lifting his eyes, he sought Viktor’s again and nodded. Ah yes. So many handsome men around court. “There are. And you’re one of them. Perhaps you will come to know some of them better at our party.”

Well, at least complimenting him on his appearance was nicely in line for Lestat’s affections, and Viktor soaked it up hungrily. He wanted to be a good son, he wanted to fit in at Lestat’s side in court the way he’d always hoped. And he knew all the right languages and read all the right books. It just seemed he was lacking a social grace that seemed so inborn with his father. “I should leave the topic alone now, or you’ll be passing me around on your arm like a debutant!”

Lestat lifted his other hand to take Viktor’s chin lightly between his fingers and he smiled at him. “Don’t worry. I’ll be far too busy for anything like that. You just show up and have a good time. Tell Rose to save me a dance.”

That felt like it could almost be a disappointment if he let it, but Viktor smiled, leaning forward to kiss his father’s cheek. _I’ll behave myself. I won’t be weak again_ , he promised him in private thought. _Rose and I are in love._

Lestat squeezed Viktor’s hand gently in acknowledgement before releasing him. If Viktor had made any other mistake in the world, Lestat would have felt endeared by it, would have identified with his son even more. But hurting his little Rose was the one thing that could not be brushed aside until it was made right again and she was completely happy. But if anyone could manage it, Viktor could.

“I love you,” Lestat said in a quiet, serious tone, wanting to make sure Viktor knew that. Even if their friendship was strained, Lestat’s love wasn’t going anywhere.

Viktor nodded, hoping Lestat could feel his own love back for him. He’d make this better, he would, he was sure the next time he saw David, he wouldn’t have nearly this same spell on him, and if he did? Viktor would just be stronger.

 _Stronger_ …That was amusing. But perhaps Viktor would be. Who was Lestat to say? But Lestat was resigned now that what would happen would happen. If David chose Viktor over him, what could Lestat even do about it? It would already be too late. Decided.

The thought (as hypothetical as it still was) stung more now than it might have a year ago, before Louis started drifting away from him. Now, it felt like all the parts of Lestat’s life were uncoiling, all the strings he tried to keep in his grasp slipping away. He felt like he was fading into the background, like he would soon merge with the walls and be no more real than the painting of him on the ceiling above their heads. Perhaps that’s why Viktor was here in this world now. To take Lestat’s place.

He was unable to hide the ghost of sadness in his eyes as he smiled at his son. “Did you know there’s a secret passage in this room?” he asked in a casual tone that did not at all align with his thoughts.

Viktor peered curiously into his dad’s eyes, trying to reconcile the drifting anguish he felt from him with the words they spoke, sure that they much somehow connect. A passage? A passage to…a room for Louis? That seemed far-fetched and ridiculous, but at the same time the idea of a secret passageway in an ancient castle was too grand an adventure to pass up. “No! Show me?”

With a toss of his head, Lestat gestured for Viktor to follow him to the front of room where the stage was that usually held the orchestra. He climbed up the steps, running his hand over the lid of the grand piano as he passed it, his fingers longing to touch the keys beneath.

At the back of the stage, he hopped down into the narrow space between it and the wall where a vast tapestry hung. Squeezing to the side, he drew the tapestry back to reveal the unplastered stone wall behind. “Push just there,” he said, gesturing to the spot that would trigger the door to open.

Viktor looked up a bit skeptically, as though expecting this to be a grand joke on a gullible child, but he trusted Lestat. He pressed on a stone, feeling it difficult to manipulate, more than a mortal could manage, and pressed it several inches in, revealing a short spring-trap door.

Delighted, Viktor jumped back, laughing gently. “Oh that’s amazing!” he said, unable to resist thoughts of old adventure and fantasy books he’d read as a kid. With a more mature thought, he said, “Is this your and Louis’d secret hideaway?”

The freeness of Viktor’s laugh made Lestat smile a little more genuinely. All was dark in the passage, and it hadn’t been used in ages, but was clean and dry. His fingers clenched a little against the tapestry he was still holding up. “We don’t…have secret hideaways,” he said absently, his thoughts far away for the moment. He could only imagine Louis’s utter lack of interest if Lestat even suggested such a thing. Louis was uninterested in everything now. Even when Lestat had asked Louis to run away with him a few weeks ago, Louis had refused that.

Viktor looked at his father, reading his rejected body language as easily as he could his feelings. Was he even trying to hide his thought process right now? Usually it wasn’t nearly this easy.

“Dad…you uh…you and Louis are ok, right?” he asked, suddenly feeling almost…small. Was this even an ok thing to ask his father?

“Of course,” Lestat said, without even thinking about it, without even hearing what Viktor was actually asking.

He considered the darkness beyond the doorway for a moment, thought about taking Viktor down there to show him where the passage let out… But then, instead, reached in and pulled the door shut again, moving the stone with no effort whatsoever.

Lestat let the tapestry fall back and then looked up to the painted ceiling, his eyes finding Louis’s portrait there. “I know how to handle Louis’s moods,” he said as if it were no big deal at all.

Viktor didn’t look at the portraits; he looked at the tapestry, and the dark little secret hidden behind its beautiful, glittering threads.

Yes, this…was not going where he thought it would go, but he couldn’t balance this with his sense of propriety right now. “Father,” he began, using his preferred name, “I don’t think ‘handle Louis moods’ sounds like something a contented man would say about his husband…”

Lestat laughed sharply at Viktor’s audacity, a dry brittle sound and he turned to look at him again. Lifting a hand, he patted Viktor’s cheek in an affectionately patronizing way before jumping back up onto the stage again.

He wasn’t going to argue or deny it, though. Lestat wasn’t _contended_. But should he ever even expect to be? Could he and Louis ever be truly content? _Patience_ was the most he could truly strive for.

“I doubt he’ll come to our party,” Lestat said as he surveyed the room from the point of view of the stage, calculating how many pedestals he wanted to order for the floral arrangements. “But I’ll try to talk him into at least stopping by for a minute.”

Viktor joined his father, jumping with an ease that was still just fun even after these years. “Is Louis…I mean I’ve read, a lot. I know in the books, he isn’t so social. He likes to sit and read…oh! Maybe he has social anxiety? He’s an introvert, and you’re not! But you can still make that work, I’m sure… You’re in love.”

Although Lestat’s eyes stayed on the room, he reached over and clasped Viktor’s arm in a gesture of appreciation. He really was a dear boy, to care so much. Even though there was absolutely nothing Viktor could do or say to aid the situation, it made Lestat feel a tiny bit less lonely that Viktor even wanted to try.

He took out his phone and jotted out a quick note to himself with his calculations, and then he turned fully to Viktor. “Have you heard from Marius since he left?” he asked to change the subject.

“Why would I?” he asked, perhaps a hint of bitterness bleeding into his tone. “Marius and I aren’t really close.”

Viktor’s tone surprised Lestat, and sympathy touched his gaze. Even before the trouble that had driven Marius to leave, Lestat had felt rather distant from Marius himself lately as well, and they were used to working together every night. Lestat was hoping Marius would have been different with his fledglings, at least.

“He’s off on a little art tour or something, right?” Viktor asked. “Getting inspired?” Which was all well and good. Not like Viktor was hoping he might have painting lessons with his maker now that he was finally back from his own travels or anything. Besides, he wasn’t sure this was what his father wanted to talk about. He could hear Louis’s name going around Lestat's head like a tub drain.

“Something, yes…” Lestat wasn’t exactly sure which of Marius’s excuses for leaving he was supposed to let Viktor believe. Of course, Lestat knew the truth. Or at least part of it. But Viktor did not need to be burdened with those matters. What mattered was that Marius obviously needed time alone. “I’m sorry if I’ve reminded you of something painful.”

“It’s not,” Viktor said quickly, shrugging it off. Makers weren’t required to keep close with their fledglings, after all, and Marius was busy. Viktor had Lestat, and Fareed and Seth…well. Usually, he had Fareed and Seth. He hadn’t spoken to them in forever either… Well, he had Lestat! And Rose. They were enough. “So where does that passage lead?”

Lestat studied Viktor for a moment, trying to determine if he was telling the truth, but he didn’t push it. “It opens up in three other places. One is what’s now the library, and one is the old kitchens. At the end, there are stairs that go down to the area behind where I dug out the underground expansion. It’s rather useless, really. What need would any of us have for sneaking through the walls?”

“Because it’s cool?” Viktor said immediately, and ribbed his dad with a wink. “You’re getting boring with the centuries, I think! How can you look at a secret passageway in a castle and not immediately wonder if there are more, or if they lead anywhere to a dead body or something priceless? Where’s your old adventurous spirit, father?”

Lestat arched an eyebrow at Viktor. “Oh, there are more. Four of them.” Equally useless, really. It’s not as if they’d ever need to escape from invading revolutionaries like his father once had. “And there had better not be any dead bodies in this castle,” he added in a more joking tone. “You know I have rules about that. Please bury all your bodies at least ten miles away. Or burn them.”

“Don’t worry, I do, promise!” He laughed. “I read enough murder mysteries growing up to have some creative hiding spots of my own! As far as I’m aware, only one of mine has been discovered… Sadly, it got connected to an Austrian serial killer, but I learned from that!” He took a careful breath. “Maybe when you and Louis and I get to have our next hunting trip, you can teach me more?”

The mirth faded back out of Lestat’s expression. “We’ll go. You and I.” He pressed Viktor’s arm affectionately. “Louis likes to hunt alone. Don’t take it personally. He’s always been this way.”

“I mean, sure, but I know there’s more to it.” Maybe it wasn’t good etiquette to question his father like this, but it made Viktor supremely uncomfortable and upset to feel this melancholy coming from his father. “Did you two fight?”

Lestat blinked in a moment of surprise. He and Louis would have to actually talk to each other in order to fight… “No,” he reassured Viktor. “Nothing like that. We’re fine.”

Lestat was at least ninety percent sure Louis’s recent distance had nothing to do with _him_ , despite his paranoia that feared he was to blame. But he made himself ignore that irrationality the best he could. “It’s not always my fault, you know,” he added with an attempt at humor.

“No, but more than a dozen books have given you quite the track record, Father!” He laughed. “You can’t blame me for wondering if your over-the-top European theatrics had gotten you a place on the couch!”

Ah, Viktor immediately thought perhaps this was in poor taste, and wished he could wind his words back in. “Ah…so is…has Louis…I haven’t seen him around…”

Lestat shook his head to let Viktor know he wasn’t angry. “He’s either upstairs or in the library.” Avoiding Lestat. Avoiding everyone. Though perhaps he’d make an exception for Viktor. Lestat shrugged, concealing his emotion from his son. “Go see him if you like. I’m sure he won’t mind your company.”

That didn’t sound like a terrible idea. Viktor adored his…uncle? Stepfather? He wasn’t sure. He just called him Louis. Vampires seemed unbothered by titles of family relation any further than maker, child, and occasionally sibling. Louis was just his beloved Louis, gentle and tender, but a powerful hunter underneath. And just by looking at Lestat he knew he was picking up on that love as well. How could he not? Louis was practically the darling of their court!

“I’d rather be with you or Rose, I think,” Viktor said carefully. “You seem to desire company. Am I wrong?”

Lestat put an arm around him and kissed his son’s temple. No, he wasn’t wrong at all. And he allowed Viktor to join him for the remainder of his night’s appointments.


	30. The Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daniel is excited to be on the run...until the wrong hunter shows up.

Daniel Owen Molloy felt very pleased with himself thank you very much, cozy and secure in a rented studio on the northern border of France. He didn’t even know if Armand knew Air BNB existed, let alone how to track a last minute flight! Netflix, wifi (with a VPN protector of course), he was good to go.

David was a little disappointed in Daniel. This was too simple. He walked along the wall behind a set of small studios, wondering if he should just leave him alone and follow him for another few nights before springing on him. But if he was going to be this easy to track, what was the point really?

His mind was easily accessible to David, and it was clear he had Armand at the front of his thoughts. He seemed not at all to think David might find him instead. And maybe Armand wouldn’t find him here, since he couldn’t track Daniel’s thoughts himself. But why was Daniel running from Armand at all?

David dropped down from the wall and decided just to knock on the front door, because why not? He had manners. He approached the door and knocked casually.

Daniel had stayed in night rentals before, and was used to a visitor. Delivery to the wrong door, owner checking up. At least being nocturnal meant he avoided the Jehovah’s Witne—

Oh shit. That wasn’t a lost pizza guy. He could sense the being on the other side of the door, and knew it immediately.

Mother fucker, not tonight! …Maybe he wouldn’t answer.

David couldn’t help laughing. And then it just was too funny to stop laughing. “Daniel. Be polite and open the door, or pay damages for the lock I’m about to break.”

Daniel crept closer to the door, quietly weighing his options. Shit…shit! He felt almost out of body as his fingers went for the dead bolt. Of course this wouldn’t keep even a newborn blood drinker out of this house! “I didn’t think you’d show so soon. Impatient much?”

David stood there leaning against the door frame, arms crossed on his chest, a smile on his face. “No… not impatient,” he said quietly, glancing beyond Daniel to the room. He moved in a flash and grabbed Daniel by the throat, shoving him back hard into the room as he stepped inside and shut the door, locking it behind him.

He made a small circuit of the room, shaking his head. “This is sad, Daniel. This is too easy. I was going to give you a few more nights to do something more impressive, but it seems like you just won’t.” He stopped his pace around the room and looked at Daniel. “I suppose I have to entertain myself in other ways.”

Daniel didn’t need to breathe but he needed air to speak, so he thought towards David, Shove off, I was playing with Armand. I didn’t set myself up here because I can’t do a better job of getting away from you. Wanna see who’s faster? Let me go and see how fast I can run.

David couldn’t quite understand the reasoning there but let it go. “Armand is this simple? Why are you running from him?”

“I told you, it’s a game,” Daniel spat back, rubbing at his throat. He could feel the bruises David left him, and he wished he could see them. “It has literally nothing to do with you and don’t insult my Maker.”

“Strange timing to play what is obviously some hide and seek game when you just entered this agreement with me.” He stepped closer to Daniel, threateningly. He grabbed the back of his hair in a tight fist of hair and yanked his head back. “Should I leave something for Armand to find… if he ever does find you?” He eyed Daniel closely, enjoying the emotions rolling around in him.

This was what he wanted, damn it, and as David pulled his hair back painfully tight, Daniel felt his thoughts of Armand melt away. David’s rich skin, vivid eyes, that dark, glossy hair…Daniel wanted his hands in that hair, and reached up to glide his fingers through it, pissed that he was shaking.

David was not sure what to do with Daniel, actually. Just take all his aggression out on him over the past weeks that he’s had to spend in that damned Tower because this little tease couldn’t handle the first round in the library? Or just drag him to the sad bed over there and drain him.

He grabbed Daniel’s wrists in one hand, to stop him from touching his hair, and held them behind Daniel’s back in a painful grip. “I never said you could touch, did I?” He glared. “I think I’m going to do the thing you said you never really got before.” He flashed his fangs, “Drain you until you have nothing left.”

Daniel tugged at his wrist, almost playfully at first, but then he decided he really wanted to test this. Armand’s blood, Lestat’s blood, Marius’s, he really was curious- so he tensed himself, gave his arm a quick twist, and managed to get out of David’s hold long enough to drag him down by the shoulders and hit his back to the floor.

David glared angrily. This was too reminiscent of the library, when Daniel tripped him to the floor. He wrapped a hand around Daniel’s throat, shoving him back over onto the floor, on his own back. With a choke-hold on him, David climbed back on top, pinning Daniel. “Who do you think you are,” he snarled angrily. He let go of Daniel’s throat long enough to jerk his head back and bite into him sharply, unable to keep himself from moaning as the blood spilled into his mouth in a fount of heat and lust.

For a moment he was preparing to fight back; he had plenty of strength left in him, he was powerful, but David’s fangs in his neck stilled him. This time, though, he tried to let go and focus not on escape but on the pleasure of having his blood taken, of having the one thing Armand swore he wouldn’t do now, which Marius wouldn’t consider.

It was difficult, as he’d been wanting this particular conquest for some time now, but David paced the taking of Daniel’s blood and didn’t immediately drain him. His blood was heat and light, tinged in that certain enjoyable flavor the fight or flight instinct brings. Which was one of David’s particular favorites. He took enough to weaken Daniel considerably, withdrew from him and looked down to examine his reaction.

David glanced around this sad little studio home. It was nondescript and dull and poor. But there was a bed over there in the corner… He glanced from the bed to Daniel, “I think you said you wanted to be useless under me,” David said with dark threat. “Isn’t that what you said, Daniel?”

Daniel shook as he raised himself to sitting, arms feeling too weak to properly help him. He found a surge of adrenaline fueled power though as David drew near.

Daniel had one thing going for him; he was quick. If he was focused and ready, he could shoot forward faster than most vampires, and he did to now, grabbing David’s ankle as he approached and dragging him down to the floor with him.

He fell more than crawled on top of him, sinking his own bite into David’s neck, and pulling quickly on the wound. Just a couple swallows of blood, even just one would help!

Shocked by the sudden flip in positions David lay still beneath Daniel and let him take some of the lost blood back, almost falling into the pleasure of it. But he wouldn’t allow that just yet. He grabbed the back of Daniel’s head by the hair and yanked him away sharply, seeing that dazed look in his eyes, the blood still on his lips.

“Suddenly you want my blood, Daniel?” He wrapped his hand around Daniel’s throat again, pulling him up to a standing position with him. He held him there, staring into his eyes. “Don’t fight back, or I’ll make it worse on you.” He shoved him back hard towards the bed.

Daniel stumbled backwards, enlivened by the taste and strength of that blood, and he grit his teeth, tempted to fight. He was a fighter, even as he ran, because he’d known he couldn’t take on a vampire, even one that looked like he ought to be picked up for curfew. But David? David was a challenge. When David approached him, he stood firm, trying to press back.

David eyed Daniel as he stood there giving no ground. This entire time he’d been not at all the timid scared bunny he was back in the library, and it was confusing David. It was also aggravating. He stared into those violet eyes, trying to come up with a plan for what exactly he intended to do here. He had no plans. Just that he wanted to possess and conquer Daniel. Why did he want this? It was wreaking havoc on his life right now. “I don’t want to want this,” he muttered angrily at Daniel. “Why are you having this effect,” he yelled at him suddenly. He grabbed the stupid glasses off Daniel’s face and threw them across the room. “Stop wearing those!” He grabbed Daniel by the biceps, and shook him roughly, then dragged him to the bed, shoving him down on it. “This isn’t going to be a sex thing, Daniel. This is all blood!” He leaned in and tore into his throat again, pulling the blood into himself harder this time, drowning his senses in Daniel and the blood and the need.

Daniel was on his back before he could catch himself, the pain of David’s ruthless bite overtaking the pleasure of being fed from at first. It was no gentle break to the skin, it was brutal and it tore his flesh and he wasn’t so sure David didn’t commit their great sin of spilling blood, wasting it. He tried to get his hands between them and push him away but David held him first and drank deeply.

As more and more of Daniel’s blood entered his system, David slowed the pull on it. He dragged Daniel’s limp body closer, and telepathically fed back to him every dark erotic emotion he’d been having about him since this all started. He felt and heard their hearts beating in that familiar dance, until it was almost too dangerously slow to continue. He lifted his head and stared down at Daniel’s limp form, his eyes glazed.

“Helpless enough, Daniel?” he whispered.

Daniel panted, dizzy and with a blaring noise in his ears, like a tornado siren, rising and falling with every movement he made. He tried to cling to David, grab hold of that jacket, his lapels, anything to anchor him but his hands shook and his grip was weak.

“…Y…yeah,” he whispered, groaning as he felt how slowly the pain in his neck was leaving him.

David allowed a few minutes to pass, letting Daniel experience total blood loss and being at his mercy. He watched his hands try to find him, listened to his slow heavy heartbeat, watched him lay still finally. He stretched out against Daniel, lifted his wrist to his mouth and bit in, tasting his own blood. David placed it against Daniel’s lips, blood spilling over, waiting… “Will you or won’t you this time, Daniel?”

That voice echoed far away from Daniel, unreachable and making him feel dim and slow and-

The blood at his lips though, that taste on his tongue was everything he wanted, and he gripped David’s wrist with what little frail strength he had, unwilling to let him go as he clung tight and drank deeply, sighing at each swallow. For a moment his entire world was this blood, as it had once been.

David drew in a sharp breath and tumbled into a slow swoon as Daniel drank. He whispered against Daniel’s ear, encouraging words. He kissed and sucked lightly along Daniel’s throat. Not really intending to, but overtaken with the pleasure of it all, David bit in slowly to Daniel’s throat, creating a circuit of blood flow between them.

Daniel whined into the skin at his mouth, not really sure he was swallowing anymore- ah, Armand would be ashamed of him then, he thought, but for what he was doing but only for spilling blood, wasting blood. Yes, he felt it spilling from his mouth and running down the side of his cheek. How ghastly.

The whining coming from Daniel was too intense to handle, sharpening the pleasure to a painful degree. David withdrew from him, lifted his head to see blood spilling down his cheek. He pulled his wrist away, because clearly Daniel was incapable of drinking more neatly. “Why are you such a messy drinker, Daniel,” he asked. “How will you explain blood all over the bedding to the owner of this property?”

David licked the blood from Daniel’s face, enjoying the sounds he made as a result. He kissed him messily, feeding it back.

Daniel had some deep seated repulsion still, an instinct to try and bite at David’s tongue or his lips, to get him away, but the pleasure of their kiss was too enticing. It fueled him, it warmed him, and the pain in his neck swelled as he felt David’s hands at his throat. Yes, this was good, this was what he wanted, and he could have drifted into a sleep from this swoon but David Talbot was a bastard.

David pulled away from this kiss, catching Daniel’s thoughts and feeling the anger seep back in over the pleasure of the past minutes. He glared down at him, eyes flashing. “Need I remind you, Daniel, that you asked for this? You ungrateful little tease,” he snarled. He slapped him hard across the cheek then wrapped hands around his throat and squeezed hard enough to make sure he left some good bruising. “You understand I just remade you, right? That’s all my blood in you now… Let Armand know I fixed you. I would imagine you’re stronger than him now.” David smirked.

Daniel stared at David through hazy vision, blinking, sure in his delirium that he would be able to see if only he still had his glasses. “Nuh uh…I’m…I’m Armand’s,” he slurred, licking just the last drops of blood from his skin. “not yours.”

David sighed heavily. “It was not to be taken literally. Simply that you’re loaded with my blood now. Just you remember that part, Daniel, when you’re hating on me.” David licked/kissed Daniel roughly one more time, stood from the bed in one fluid movement, and stared down at him, admiring his work. “You are a disaster, Daniel. I was going to teach you to cloak your thoughts better, so this whole hunt thing would be more fun… but you are clearly incapable right now.” He smiled sweetly at Daniel. “I’ll see you around, Daniel.”

Daniel lay silently for over an hour, his head buzzing, his body alight with pain as his bruises began to heal. It was a slower process than usual, since David had not given back as much as he’d taken, but eventually he was able to sit up and start getting his head back into place. A hunt…he should have a hunt, then get back here and wait for Armand.

————————————————————————

Armand knocked on Gregory’s office door. He still had time to kill before he was allowed to go after Daniel, and mind blowing sex aside, Gregory had this world wise way about him that put Armand’s mind and heart at ease some nights. He needed that now, now that he was worried about Daniel. So, all teasing aside, he had no problem obeying the summons Gregory’s had issued over their text conversation.

“Come in, please,” Gregory called out, knowing exactly who was on the other side of the door, and a small thrill passing through him before he could quash it down.

Armand did as commanded, closing the door behind him and coming to stand before Gregory. Even stood up as he sat down, Armand didn’t tower over him too much. It was funny to him that a man of his build had a corporate empire with an office, and fancy shirts. “Are you too busy?” he asked quietly.

Gregory looked Armand over with slow perusal, enjoying the small perfectly proportioned form he had, and the beautiful clothing he’d chosen this night. “I’m never too busy for you.” He smiled.

It was hard to ignore the way those dark eyes raked over him, those eyes filled with so much hunger and mystery. He came closer, adoring being the object of his affections yet again, and stroking a hand down the side of his face. It would be such a shame when Gregory finally tired of him. “I have a little time to kill. But I’d like some advice.”

Gregory turned towards him as he touched his face. This one had a particularly strong pull on him and it made him uneasy and thrilled at the same time. He stretched out from his desk and offered his lap. “Please have a seat,” he smiled sweetly. “I love giving advice.”

Gregory’s undying need to touch him was another thing that thrilled him. He would have settled for sitting on the desk or a chair, but this was nice. This made him feel wanted, and that was one of Armand’s favorite feelings in the world.

So he took the offered seat, getting comfortable and sliding his arms around Gregory’s neck. “It’s Daniel. I thought that by caring for him now, where I’ve been such a useless maker, that I was making him happy. But I think he’s…bored.”

Gregory immediately wrapped an arm around the slight form, enjoying the now familiar weight against him. He resisted burying his face in his neck and smelling deeply of the scent of him. Armand seemed serious about talking, so he listened closely. “Why do you think Daniel is bored?”

“It’s a simple thing, really. Perhaps nothing to worry about. I brought him the newest game he’s been talking about and he didn’t bat an eye. And then when I threatened to chase him halfway across the world and whip him when I got him back, you should have seen the way his eyes lit up. It was as if a switch went off.” Armand murmured, eyes focused on a spot upon the desk. The shiny new desk that he was bent over a couple of days ago. “So naturally he’s travelling halfway across the world now on my command, waiting for me to follow suit.”

Gregory frowned a little, eyes following Armand’s gaze to the desk, his own memories of the other night entirely too fresh. He shook his head to dislodge the line of thinking. He wanted to focus on this conversation and not have it clouded by his yearning for Armand.

“You told him to run and that you would whip him when you found him,” he asked. “If this is a thing he likes… I’m not sure why you are concerned. Do you want me to track him? I can put Santh on him, if you don’t want to go through the following yourself.”

“No,” Armand responded quickly. “No, I will do this. It’s something we’ve done before, used to do. And he’d be heartbroken if I sent him off on it and can’t make the effort to find him myself.” He sighed. “I am concerned he might not want me unless I’m a toxic, frightening little psychopath.”

Gregory was immediately taken aback by this, sliding his free hand up along Armand’s leg and the other up his back to pull him down against his chest. “You are not any of those things, Armand. Stop degrading yourself that way, it hurts me.” He smoothed the curls of soft hair back from his forehead and kissed it tenderly. “Daniel likes a chase, apparently. You don’t have to be those things to do it.” He slid a thumb lightly along the side of Armand’s neck, soothing.

Armand quirked a brow as he nestled into his chest, looking up at him. He sighed into the attention though, he adored it, and he allowed Gregory’s hand to go where it would. “Says the very same man who threatened to punish me the other night for calling him a bastard? Who tortured me for four nights in the woods? I don’t hold it against you, not at all, but forgive me for thinking you’d be content with my degradation. How does it hurt you?” he asked quietly, locking eyes with Gregory. “I hope you’re right. I feel I need to step my game up, as it were.”

Gregory had to admit there as a certain duplicity to his relationship with Armand. “I’m speaking of the words you use to describe yourself, not so much the fact that you need some discipline every so often,” he replied, holding that eye-contact and ducking quickly to kiss that perfect mouth.

Gregory let his eyes drift away as he quickly scanned the surrounding area for Daniel. “He’s not far. He’s… do you want me to tell you where he is? I’ll watch him if you ask.”

Armand straightened slightly, taken aback by the kiss but not resentful of it. “No,” he said again. “The hunting isn’t the problem, not really. And I still have two hours. But perhaps you can give me a general area when I leave.”

“I’ll give you a general area when you leave then.” He gave Armand a small squeeze as he sat there in his lap. He ran his hand up Armand’s thigh, his thumb rubbing circles on the inside of it. It took everything he had not to lift Armand up and place him back on the desk for a repeat performance of the other night. “I can give you other advice, if you have any other concerns,” he said with a smile.

Armand shook his head, closing his eyes as he rested against Gregory’s chest. He enjoyed it, his hand creeping upwards, the attention, the genuine smile on his handsome face. “I need guidance from time to time, I think, on how to be a good maker. You seem good at it. I never really intended to make another, Daniel just sort of happened, and I don’t want to fail him a second time.”

“You won’t fail him,” Gregory said, lips ghosting along the smooth skin of Armand’s forehead, one hand sliding into the curls on his head. A strong sense of craving him consumed Gregory suddenly. He tensed at the feeling, trying to talk himself down from it. It was very distracting to have this need every time Armand was near.

“I’ve only made two fledglings, myself. And the queen threw me in a cell for decades after I made the first one. So really, I have an only child as well. Chrysanthe is the only one I made and ‘raised’. And really, she raised me, not the other way around.”

Armand frowned at the way Gregory tensed around him, as if battling some sort of pain, and he shifted. “Very well, then. I suppose we’ll learn how to be good makers together,” he said quietly. “Do you want me to leave now? You seem…strung.”

Gregory laughed at that phrasing. “Strung? Yes, I’m strung, Armand.” He gazed at him there in his arms. How well they fit together. “You make me nervous,” he admitted finally. “Because I’m not entirely in control around you. And I like control.”

Armand quirked a brow, sitting straight on Gregory’s lap to come eye level with him and caressing his fingers along the collar of his shirt. He frowned then, the weight of Gregory’s words concerning him. “You’re in control. You’ve been in control this whole time. It is you who dominates. How could I make you nervous?”

The feel of those deceptively strong fingers along his collar was distracting. The way Armand shifted in his lap was even more so. “Because I crave you, Armand. And of course I dominate; because that’s what I’ve done my whole life and I don’t know otherwise. But this craving is a thing I don’t get often for others.” With one hand behind Armand’s neck, he pulled him forward for a lingering kiss, his own heart rate increasing as it continued.

If Armand had fed, he might have had a deep flush color his cheeks. This was a feeling like no other, and the confession lit a fire in his veins along with the kiss, the tender, passionate kiss. He placed his hand on Gregory’s powerful chest, the quickening of his heart causing Armand to gasp.

“What have we gotten ourselves into?” he asked breathlessly as he pulled away, feeling stripped naked and exposed by the depth of Gregory’s eyes. He rested his head against Gregory’s to steel himself against the rawness of it all, though he didn’t close his eyes.

He stared into those eyes. Those eyes he’d been staring into far too often lately. Drowning in them. When he’d tortured him, when he’d made love to him, when he spoke to him as he was now.

Gregory leaned back, running his hands back over his own face and through his hair. Stretching a bit to try and get the needy feeling back under his own will. “I don’t know, Armand. This was supposed to be purely a physical thing. I had no intention of it morphing into this…Does it matter? Are we not supposed to have this connection for some reason?”

“We can, of course we can. And we do, even if we weren’t meant to. And nobody would try to take it away from us.” Armand spoke perhaps a little too frantically, as if worried he’d jeopardized this entire thing, this new and beautiful and thrilling thing. “But the intensity of it…I don’t know what to make of it. Do you?” he asked quietly, drawing his eyes languorously back up to Gregory’s.

“No…it’s intense, isn’t it?” He pressed a hand along Armand’s side, at his waist, fingers sliding along the edge of his pants, and up under his shirt to touch that skin that he was longing to touch. “I want you all the damned time. Do you think it’s because we were both essentially used for sex as mortals? Some common ground between us? Or is it just simple chemistry?” He smiled at Armand. “We are very good together aren’t we?”

Armand shivered, sparks shooting through his body as Gregory made contact. He looked at him in shock over it, before it registered what he was asking. He’d never looked at it that way before.

“There may be something to that. But god do we have chemistry.” He smiled brightly, his very brightest smile, and brought his hands to the buttons of Gregory’s fine shirt without breaking eye contact. “We are.”

Gregory couldn’t help a genuine smile of his own as Armand’s face brightened beautifully. He slid both his hands up under Armand’s shirt, along the smooth skin of his sides, his back. Gregory lifted him easily so that Armand was in more of a straddle position. “I definitely can’t keep my hands off you,” he breathed against the skin of his throat.

“An addiction…” Armand breathed, one hand coming to scratch at his jaw, where his beard sometimes was. Armand adored it when he didn’t shave. So few of them had beards, and there was something unbearably arousing about it. He shifted again, this time deliberately, in a way that would drive Gregory crazy. So what? He’d not taken him on this chair yet. “One day I want to come to you, and I want you not to have shaved your beard. I want you to take me like that. I want to feel it scratch my inner thighs, chafe my mouth as we kiss…”

He drew a shallow breath in as Armand moved in just the right way against his lap, blood rushing downward to his groin. One of his own hands slid around to cupped Armand’s ass, pressing him closer. The image Armand conjured with his words sent a small thrill through him, his breath catching, “That’s an easily fulfilled request,” he said. “Do you want my hair long too?”

Armand nodded. God, yes. “I want nothing more than you in your most natural, most raw state. I want you as you are, as you were, as you have always been. And I want every last inch of you.” He sighed, wanting nothing more than for both of them to be out of their clothes.

Gregory quickly removed Armand’s shirt, and then worked on his pants. He ducked his head to lick and then suck at Armand’s nipples. “I might need a bed in here if this is going to keep happening,” he breathed against the wet trail he’d made on that temping white skin.

Armand shuddered, clapping his own hand over his mouth in an attempt to silence a particularly heady moan. His free hand travelled to Gregory’s zipper and he pulled him out, slicking up his hand with spit before taking him in hand. He was wasting no time tonight.

“Be imaginative, darling,” he breathed, removing his hand from his mouth. “There are far more interesting places for you to take me.”

Gregory managed to get shoes and pants off Armand in record time, pulling him back onto his lap. His head falling back against the chair as Armand expertly stroked him in a merciless rhythm. “I can’t think very well right now, honestly,” he laughed a little, staring at Armand with half-lidded eyes. He wrapped his own hand around Armand’s length in a firm grip, thumb sliding over the head, his other hand up into his hair, pulling him down for a messy kiss of tongues and fangs.

Armand bucked into his grip, hand flying to Gregory’s wrist to still it. He pulled away from the intoxicating kiss momentarily, blood spilling over his lips.

“I didn’t have foreplay in mind tonight, darling,” he purred, slicking Gregory once more for good measure before lifting and lowering himself onto him, agonizingly slowly. He returned to the kiss, moaning into his mouth as he was stretched.

Gregory drew in a sharp breath as he sank into Armand’s familiar heat and grip, wanting more of him. Always wanting more. He gripped his hips in strong hands, holding him still as he thrust up, hard, driving their pleasure into a more frenzied dance. “Armand,” he moaned softly, watching him closely.

“…Yes?” Armand returned breathlessly, bracing himself on Gregory’s powerful chest as he worked up a pace. He locked eyes with him, a very faint color flushing his cheeks as he noticed how positively enraptured he looked. Gregory Collingsworth, unable to look away. That was a crowning achievement.

Gregory laughed breathlessly. “No, I’m just saying your name.” He slid a hand up and cupped Armand’s cheek, his thumb running over that bottom lip. “Armand, Armand…” he growled low in his throat. His movements quickened as he came dangerously closer to the edge. He slid his hand around Armand’s cock again, working it at the same hard pace.

A great heat overcame Armand. Not only were those bestial growls setting his whole body alight, but those growls were sounding his name. Like some great wolf howling at the moon, hungry, hungry for him. With great stuttering breaths this thought very nearly finished him, and he made sure to increase his own efforts to fulfill Gregory too.

Gregory tangled his fingers in Armand’s hair, pulling his head down almost roughly, so he could taste those lips, his tongue. Completely drowning in him as he felt that final rush of need reach a climax deep within. Gregory groaned into that sweet mouth, feeling Armand against him in the same pleasurable completion.

Armand pulled away just enough to look at him, stroking over his face, searching his eyes and finding everything as he panted breathlessly. He pressed their foreheads together again as they came down from their high, and in that moment he never wanted to be away from Gregory. It felt so right.

Gregory ran his hands up and down Armand’s back, slowly, gentling. Both of them coming down to the reality of the room around them. “Maybe I should have locked the door,” Gregory whispered, amused at the idea of someone walking in on this. He kissed the side of Armand’s face, smoothing a damp strand of hair back and tucking it behind his ear. “Just stay here. I’ll track Daniel with my mind. It’s so easy for me.”

Again, Armand shook his head. “He is my only fledgling, and I sent him off. He seemed so damned excited about it too. It would crush him, you don’t understand. So don’t even tell me the country. Just the continent, and I may be gone a couple of days in search of him,” he murmured, pulling off of Gregory’s cock reluctantly. He reached for his discarded shirt and shrugged it on, but otherwise leaned against Gregory’s chest and remained in his arms.

Gregory sighed with a bit of regret as Armand slid off of him and put on his shirt. He tucked himself back into his pants, and slid strong arms around Armand, holding him there against him as he let his mind search quickly for Daniel.

He laughed a little at the location he found Daniel in. “He’s in Europe,” he said to Armand. He caressed Armand’s soft hair with one hand. “Call me if you need any help during your tracking.”

Armand smirked. “He tried his best. Thank you, sweetheart.” He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to Gregory’s lips before pulling away entirely and sliding off of his lap and retrieving the rest of his clothes. “Don’t miss me too much, if I am gone for days.”

Gregory watched him dress. “I will though,” he smiled. “But I’ll survive. And when you come back… we’ll do the beard thing.” He winked at Armand.

Armand drew near to him for another kiss, as though magnetized, as though it felt wrong to leave. He really didn’t want to. “I’ll miss you too, my love,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to his cheek and nodding. “I’ll text you, so you know not to shave. Goodnight.” He smiled as he left.

—————————————————————————

 _‘Open the door’_ Armand texted to Daniel as he waited on the roof of the apartment a good few hours later. Honestly, he hadn’t expected to find him so soon, but Gregory’s tone made him think that he was still in France and from there it was a little easier.

Oh Jesus fucking Christ, Daniel didn’t need this. He felt absolutely manic, high on vampire blood and adrenaline and the kill he’d just dumped into the sewer. He had…honestly almost forgot about Armand’s hunt.

Maybe he could feign sleep.

“Daniel…” Armand cooed softly, knowing his fledgling would be able to hear him. “Come on darling, the game is up.”

Honestly that voice would have been the hottest thing Daniel had ever heard if he wasn’t exhausted. He could picture Armand on the porch, wearing a favorite denim jacket, hair loose, with that gentle smile on his soft face, but eyes looking half possessed.

“…c’min, ‘Mand.”

Armand frowned, landing on the floor gracefully and slipping into the room. He closed the door behind him, and frowned even deeper to see Daniel curled up and pale. Well this wasn’t fun.

“What happened to you, Daniel?” he murmured, rushing to him to get a look at his face.

Daniel felt heavy, and he sighed as Armand came closer. “Fine, babe. Long run. Long hunt. Maybe drugs? Yeah…” Oh what a dumb lie.

“Don’t lie to me Daniel.” Armand snapped, holding his face so he could get a better look at it. He gasped and stepped back. It was all over his face, in his eyes, he shone with it. Vampiric blood. Another’s blood. He scowled, deeply hurt by it. More than he would have ever expected. “Who?”

Daniel turned away, ashamed and then bitter at his shame. This should be fine right? They didn’t practice monogamy by any stretch, and he knew he was second to Marius anyway. If this was anyone but David he would have given the name readily. But it was. He fucking bloodshared with his and Armand’s rapist.

“Who?!” Armand demanded, wrenching Daniel firmly by the chin and forcing him to look into his eyes, his eyes alight with rage and hurt and disbelief. Because Daniel’s silence spoke volumes, and from it he already knew who.

Daniel couldn’t look at him. There was no good outcome on this at all. Either he’d hate Daniel or he’d go after David. And then he’d be tortured again, or worse-

Right, then. Lesser evil. “I…asked for this…”

That solidified it enough. Armand was no idiot. Daniel wouldn’t have even brought consent into it if it hadn’t been David’s doing. His face darkened.

He stepped away and clenched his fists. “You asked for it? What do you mean? What do you mean you asked to share blood with the creature who raped us, by the man I defended you against and faced exile for!”

“Dunno…I don’t know. Daniel’s crazy? That’s what the outside circles around court say, right?” Daniel began to rant, still feeling absolutely strung out, like he was drunk, like a mortal again. “Good chase, good hunt. Hurt.”

“He chased you?! You asked him to?!” Armand continued in his rage, his tirade, looking away from Daniel because couldn’t bear to look at him. Anyone else. Anyone else but David and he could have come to terms with it, with all of it. But this…”Am I not good enough then? Do I not thrill you enough?! Are you bored of me now that I don’t stalk you halfway across the world?! Now that I’m not a toxic little bastard?!”

“Miss it,” was all Daniel could bring himself to say. And he did. Even this, the nostalgia of a drug crash, an overdose, the regret, the knowledge that his own choices were messing up his life. Even this felt comfortable. This was something he knew.

Armand staggered back as if he had been struck. How could he say that? Armand had been nothing but good to him since they’d reunited, nothing but nurturing…was Daniel really as twisted as him? Had Armand made him this way, or had he always been like it in some regard? Is that what drew him to Daniel in the first place?

Wordlessly, he dropped down and wove his fist into Daniel’s hair, yanking his head back to expose his throat. He wanted evil Armand, fine. He was going to drain him of every last drop of that bastard’s blood. And then he was going to fill him with his own, make him remember who made him.

Armand drove his fangs into his skin mercilessly, and he hated himself for loving the taste of it.

Daniel could barely make any sound at this point, he was so spent, but he reached up to run his hands into Armand’s thick hair, holding him in place.

“This…” he whispered fondly, wishing he could impart his thoughts to Armand. “Want this. Not frail.”

Daniel’s delight overwhelmed him; almost repulsed him, but how could he truly feel disgusted when his fledgling was so damned happy? So content? How had Armand managed to misunderstand his needs so much?

It didn’t take long for him to drain him; he’d already been on the brink of exhaustion when he’d found him. With one final swallow of that rich blood, he pulled away and licked his lips, pressing Daniel’s face into his throat.

“DRINK!” he commanded with the utmost authority. There would be no negotiation.

Daniel obeyed; he was too far gone to argue, and he wanted it, that pulse, that blood- infinitely better than David’s, god, so much better, Armand was sweet, perfectly sweet in blood in a way his temperament never could be. Growing stronger with each mouthful he wound his arms adoringly around Armand’s neck, laying kisses to his throat in this half mad state, making a mess of the blood .

Armand waited until Daniel had finished with him before wrenching himself out of his arms and glaring down at him. He thought it was over? That this was forgiven? He had gone to David.

“Make your way back to the chateau. Or don’t,” Armand said coldly, turning to leave. He would later regret it, but now he couldn’t handle the pain of this rejection. Then he was gone.

The weight lifted from him left Daniel feeling adrift, despite the pleasant thrum of his maker’s blood in his veins. He'd fucked up. He knew he had. He knew this was a messed up idea from the start, but he couldn’t find words to make Armand understand this! His throat burned as tears welled up, turning the room red. Well. No Marius. Now no Armand either.

———————————————————

_Text conversation between David and Daniel_

David: Daniel, are you alright?

Daniel: googling sunrise times. does that answer it?

David: I was not that hard on you. Why are you looking up sunrise?

Daniel: gonna work on my tan

David: I hope you’re not serious, or I’ll come back there.

Daniel: not really. Might be better though. Delete my number, I fucked up enough


	31. The Rose Trellis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armand confides in Lestat about Daniel and David...much to Gregory's displeasure.

_Text conversation between Armand and Lestat_

Armand: Where are you?

Armand: If you’re free. I really need to speak to someone.

Lestat: For you, always.  
In the gardens below the ballroom terrace

——————————

Armand found him there, as promised, and he was perfectly grateful to find nobody else at all. He approached Lestat, careful to investigate whether or not there was anyone on the terrace above them who could see down before he let the concern manifest upon his face.

Lestat could tell Armand was anxious. He put his iPhone away and turned to him the moment he arrived, stepping forward and embraced him in greeting.

“Thank you, for seeing me.” Armand returned the embrace. “It’s about Daniel.”  
  
“Of course.” The last time Lestat had seen Daniel was at the trials, and he’d been a mess. But hadn’t they all?

He took a moment to look down at Armand, studying him in the moonlight, wondering how his recovery from the torture was going, looking for signs. He didn’t ask, though, not wanting to remind him of it. “Is there something he needs?”

Armand pulled away. “Yes, there is, and I can’t give it to him anymore,” he murmured, wringing his hands and pacing along the garden walk.

Lestat stood back to lean his shoulder against the rose covered trellis that arched over a wrought iron bench. He felt tired just watching Armand’s pacing, as if only one of them were capable of having energy at the moment.

“He needs a thrill,” Armand continued. “And instead of asking me, he went to David. After it all, he went to _David_ , Lestat. What am I meant to think of that?”

Lestat stiffened, a cold hand seizing his insides. “Daniel _went_ to him?” he said, shocked. “Up in my tower? What happened?”

“Well no. I don’t think so. I didn’t ask. When I found him, it was in some rented house up north, and he was swimming with David’s blood. And he told me he’d asked for it, otherwise I would have…well, I wouldn’t have attacked David, but I would have…” Armand trailed off. He realized he was erratic, wasn’t making any sense. “I wouldn’t have attacked David. I promise you, Gregory and Santh did their job.”

Lestat stared at Armand in pain and dismay, and then he stepped forward abruptly and took him by one of his arms as if afraid he’d run off and do it anyway despite saying twice he wouldn’t. He wished his touch would help calm Armand down, because his agitation was making Lestat’s own worse.  
  
“Why would he ask for such a thing?” Lestat demanded. “After everything…” And why the hell would David grant it?? Lestat was at his wits end with his mad fledgling now!

“I don’t know!” Armand cried, looking up into Lestat’s eyes. “I don’t know. That’s why I’m here. I don’t understand what I’ve done… Am I really so terribly boring that he would take David over me? After what we’ve both been through, what I’ve been through with David?” He made no effort to pull away from Lestat’s grip.

Lestat shook his head immediately. “You are many things, but boring is not one of them.” At the same time, Lestat almost inherently understood how Armand must feel right now. After all, hadn’t Lestat felt something rather like it when Louis went with Armand in the past?

“Why do you think it’s something you’ve done?” he asked quietly, hoping to calm Armand. At this point, Lestat was ready to blame David for everything.

“I couldn’t say. Really, the only thing I did was lying to him about going on that weekend away with Gregory. And I told him the second I got home, and I did it to stop him from worrying,” he murmured, running his hand through his hair. “And I hate to be vindictive, but I really do think that what he’s done is worse.”

Lestat’s brows pinched, and his fingers moved a little on Armand’s sleeve. “You went on a weekend with Gregory?” he asked quietly. He took a quick breath. “…And do you think Daniel went to David out of jealousy?”

“He must have gone out of something deeper than that. I don’t get jealous. He did it out of spite, he must have done.” Armand scowled, brows knit together as he tried to pick apart Daniel’s actions, his motives. “Gregory and I are on good terms.”

It seemed Gregory was on good terms with just about everyone. Lestat’s head tilted back to glance up at the ballroom terrace above them, and then he drew Armand gently over to the bench under the trellis arbor to make him sit. “Have you considered,” he said with an attempt at gentleness, “that David is simply irresistible?”

Armand looked at him with disgust before he realized that there wasn’t an ounce of jest on Lestat’s face. Still frowning, he threw himself dramatically against the back of the bench, slouching like some delinquent. “I find him perfectly resistable.”

Lestat folded his arms, leaning against the trellis to look down at Armand for a long thoughtful moment. “You weren’t at David’s trial. The way Daniel spoke of what happened between them… He only wanted David punished for what he did to _you_. But Daniel kept refusing to say that he’d been unwilling with David, himself…”

“I thought he was doing that to protect me,” Armand said. “To make it seem better than it all was. I’ve been through it, in both senses of the word, and I understand that need to blame oneself.” Armand sighed, lowering his gaze as he thought.

“Perhaps I was too hasty in attacking David, if it really was just…” Armand shuddered. “Perhaps I’ve forgotten Daniel, and who he is, in being away from him for so long.”

With a sigh, Lestat sat on the bench beside Armand. What the hell was he going to do with David? Maybe it was time Lestat just gave up…

He stared out at the stars above the trees as he considered what Armand said. “But is Daniel even still the same man he was back then?” he asked. “He’s come back from the darkness in a way very few of us ever have…”

“Well, that’s the thing,” Armand murmured. “I thought he might have changed, calmed down. Marius was so proud of him. And I thought I should be proud of him too, act as the maker I never was.” He looked down at his hands. “But he seems exactly the same. I _am_ proud of him, you know, but he seems to want me most when I am at my worst. And I left him so coldly in that rented house last night. Now I feel particularly bad about it.”

“He has changed,” Lestat disagreed, thinking aloud. “He is no longer the Devil’s Minion as he once thought of himself… If only because you are no longer the Devil. And he need not define himself by you.” He put a soft, comforting hand on Armand’s shoulder. “But really…it’s that it hurts you that he does not seem to want you—the you that you are now, who _I_ am proud of—as he once did, isn’t it?”

“How would you feel if all your life you were told, if not even to your face, that you were a toxic, maniacal, psychopathic, sadistic little gremlin, and perhaps you were that, and when you finally started to change a little for the better, one of the few people who was supposed to love you unconditionally doesn’t celebrate this improvement? Longs for you to be loathsome?” Armand leaned into Lestat’s touch. He couldn’t keep the anguish out of his voice. “The fact that he chose David for it just rubs salt into the wound.”

Lestat had to agree. Salt, vinegar, acid…all those things. The wound was utterly ravaged at this point. “But why do you say this?” he pressed carefully. “That Daniel was supposed to love you unconditionally? Did he promise such a thing?”

“Fine, perhaps not that,” Armand corrected himself, reflecting that fledglings owed their makers not an ounce of affection. “But we were on good terms, and it plain hurts.”

“It does. Don’t I know it…” Lestat’s gaze swept Armand’s dejected features. He reached over and brushed a strand of auburn hair back from his sorrowful face. “But do you even want to be wanted that way? This toxic thing he desires?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes. I am still that thing, after all, I always will be. But I am better, and I don’t have the heart or mind to be chasing him around the world anymore,” Armand admitted, nuzzling Lestat’s hand. “I want to stay in the chateau. I like it here.”

Lestat turned his hand to press it more fully to the side of Armand’s face, as he could tell he needed the comfort. “And I like you here. And him here as well.” He was quiet for a moment thinking over the painful complexities of makers and fledglings. “It is impossible for you to provide him everything he needs in life or in love…and you cannot resent him for needing or even wanting something you cannot provide. It will only break both of your hearts.”

Armand sighed, suddenly feeling very upset over it all. Only Lestat was right, and it hurt him to realize. It all hurt. He turned fully toward him, covering Lestat’s hand with his own. “I know he won’t find happiness with David. Or if he did, it would crush me.”

Armand’s pain washed over Lestat’s, clenching at his heart, doubling his own pain that all this reminded him of. His hand on Armand’s shoulder slid around his back. “I don’t think happiness is what Daniel’s after,” he said, speaking very low now. “It’s a thrill, as you say. But you are good for him as you are, Armand… And I meant it, I _am_ proud of you.”

Meanwhile, Gregory was on his way to the gardens to get out of his office for some fresh air and a chance to quickly respond to some texts from Chrysanthe. He was exiting the chateau and gliding down the stairs when he heard familiar voices, hushed and intimate. He also heard a very familiar heartbeat. One he’d lately come to memorize and adore.

And there they were, on a bench, under a rose trellis, holding hands, Lestat’s arm around him. Gregory paused, examining this immediate feeling of irritation within himself… He approached and stared at them both for an awkward silent moment. “What is this, Armand?”

Armand frowned, looking up at Gregory as he was drawn out of his thoughts. “I was just having a conversation with Lestat. He’s offering me some advice,” he explained. But Gregory seemed tense…almost angry, and Armand couldn’t fathom why. “What is it?”

Lestat looked up at Gregory when he realized he was just standing there staring at them. It seemed rather rude of him to intrude on a moment like this, and Lestat’s first assumption was that something urgent was the matter. But that didn’t seem to be the case at all, and he frowned in irritation of his own. “Do you need me, Gregory?” he asked, trying not to sound as confused as he felt.

Gregory glanced from Armand to Lestat. It was unfathomable that Gregory could feel anything but love for Lestat, but at this moment, it was tinged with annoyance, maybe a little anger as well. These two should not be together this way; sitting so close beneath a moonlit night and a rose trellis, holding hands so familiarly. “I need you to take your hands off Armand,” he said, quietly dangerous to Lestat.

Armand scowled, glaring up at Gregory with immediate effect as he prepared to defend himself. He would never have expected this. Not from Gregory. “He needs to do no such thing. This is Lestat, Gregory, and I am not your property. Listen to yourself.”

The last time Lestat saw Armand and Gregory together, Armand had run out of the room practically in terror. Lestat stood now, placing himself protectively in front of Armand with one hand down on Armand’s shoulder. “What do you want with Armand?” he demanded in low, guarded voice. Gregory’s torturous work with Armand was _done_. He would not be inflicting anything further on Armand, and Lestat would fight him over that if he had to.

Gregory felt his anger dissipate slightly in response to Armand’s glare, his voice rich and seductive, even in his anger. _Not his property_ …which, of course, Armand was not. But there was still a strong possessive emotion in Gregory that he couldn’t set aside so easily. He generally only got this way about his wife, so this new feeling was unsettling, to say the least.

And now Lestat seemed to have the complete wrong impression, standing there as if he could fight Gregory off. Gregory glanced to Armand, making contact with those beautiful brown eyes and stepped back, giving some ground. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, looking away, jaw tense. “You don’t have to guard him, Lestat. I wouldn’t dare hurt him.”

Armand’s resolve softened, and he stood. Gregory had composed himself, and Armand could admire this self-control, and in a twisted way, his initial possessiveness. It was endearing.

Because Lestat all but already knew, and because Armand felt just as strongly for Gregory as Gregory felt for him, Armand brushed past Lestat and approached the ancient. He stroked a hand down Gregory's face, his eyes soft. “It’s alright. I know you wouldn’t hurt me. Not now, anyway. Why don’t you sit with us? I’ve known Lestat for too long. He means a lot to me, that’s all, as he does to you.”

Lestat didn’t realize how tense he’d grown until Gregory had backed down, and only then did it occur to Lestat that he had all but challenged an ancient who could destroy him with a thought.

His hand fell to his side, and he watched the two of them with narrowed eyes. _Good terms_ , indeed…

If it hadn’t been for the torture and Armand’s visceral repulsion of Gregory the last he saw them, Lestat might have not batted an eye at the caresses they now exchanged. But in light of that, combined with all Armand had _just_ said about how he’d changed from how twisted he used to be, Lestat was rather bewildered. He closed himself off, putting up a wall in his mind, and he took a step back so that the shadow of the trellis fell across his face.

Gregory took hold of Armand, slipping arms around him easily, familiar, though he was still struggling with his own inner irritation at finding him here with another, being comforted for some reason. Why had Armand not come to Gregory instead?

“I thought you were going to call me before you came back from looking for Daniel. Why didn’t you come find me? Why are you back so quickly?” Gregory asked in a rush of quiet words, looking closely at Armand now and seeing he was visibly upset over something not related to this.

“What’s wrong?” Gregory smoothed hands possessively over Armand’s curls, kissed his forehead gently. Forgetting for a moment that Lestat was watching all this from the side. Gregory would have to apologize better to Lestat. This was such immature conduct on his own part.

Armand was hit by the slew of questions, unable to part his lips to answer one before another came in immediate succession. He frowned very lightly at the last question, shaken by Gregory’s concern. This thing between them was meant to be something physical alone, and yet here they were, Gregory holding him close like the most fragile thing. Gregory wanted to know where he’d been. He cared. His grip was simultaneously possessive and protective, and Armand couldn’t help but delight in it just a little bit.

“I’m sorry,” Armand said. “I—I’ve had an altercation with Daniel. I mistreated him, and when I got back, I could think of nothing else. I swear I was going to come to you,” he promised, locking eyes with Gregory before turning to look at Lestat. “Do not judge me for this. I’m not doing anyone harm, and I’m not asking you to understand it.”

Good! Because Lestat didn’t think he could possibly understand it—on either of their parts. He smiled at Armand, though the expression did not reach his eyes. “Would I ever judge you?”

Lestat glanced only briefly to Gregory, but then looked back to Armand. Now Lestat felt like the one being rude by intruding on a moment. “Gregory can give you far better advice than I,” he said calmly, too calmly, even though he didn’t think it was really advice Armand had come to him for. But the words were sincere anyway. After all, Gregory actually knew how to keep his lovers happy.

Only giving them a nod in parting, Lestat jumped up to the terrace above their heads, and he went into the ballroom, leaving them alone in the garden.

Gregory frowned at Lestat’s sudden departure and felt a pang of guilt for it. He shouldn’t have immediately turned all his attention on Armand. He would have to seek Lestat out later.

He looked back to Armand. “What do you mean an altercation with Daniel?” he asked. He took his hands and brought him to the bench, sitting with him and focusing intently. “Tell me.”

Armand shook his head. He didn’t want to drag Gregory into this, and he particularly didn’t want him to know how cruelly he had treated Daniel. “It’s nothing, it’s fine,” he murmured, caressing the back of Gregory’s hand with his thumb and marveling at his compassion.

Gregory lifted Armand’s hand and kissed it. “But you found Daniel? He’s safe? Did you bring him back, or he’s off running again?” He tilted his head endearingly, trying to keep Armand’s eyes on him. “Why are you so upset?”

“I found him. But where he goes now is his decision.” Armand sighed, locking eyes with Gregory. He might have told him, but between his kisses and his eager questions, Armand couldn’t help but wonder. “Why do you care quite so much?” There was nothing critical about Armand’s tone, no malice in it. But he needed to know. Gregory was so damned eager to please _him,_ of all people. He was treating Armand like a king. He nearly always did.

Gregory was not expecting that question, and he paused, glancing away from Armand, unsure how to answer it. He wasn’t sure himself why he was so interested in this. It wasn’t any of his own family that had run off from the castle. “I’m just…” He shook his head a little. “I want your happiness,” he said sincerely, staring into Armand’s eyes. “Additionally…I don’t want other men touching you… =except maybe Santh. I’ll grant him a pass.”

Armand couldn’t hide a frown at this. “We are not monogamous, you and I. We are not even in love Gregory, are we? I don’t know…but I would never expect that of you. That’s not my way. It never has been. Daniel, for one, I will continue my relationship with him as I always have, once we have reconciled.”

Armand sighed, his heart sinking and then shattering a little at the realization that he couldn’t give Gregory the devotion he wanted. Couldn’t be what he wanted. This was just turning out to be the worst night.

He looked away from Gregory. “Perhaps we should take a step back from one another. If we are so fundamentally different as that, I don’t know what to do.”

Gregory kept a firm hold on Armand’s hands in case he tried to pull back and leave as quickly as Lestat had. He looked away and sighed heavily, analyzing this thing he had developed for Armand in such a quick time. He looked back to his hands and the ring Armand wore from Marius. His own ring he wore from Chrystanthe was not much different.

“No, it was selfish to ask it of you. It’s just a possessive thing I’m going through right now, at the beginning of whatever this is.” He looked back to Armand’s face. “I don’t know what this is, Armand. I’m smitten. Let me worship you a little at least.” He smiled.

The weight on Armand’s heart lifted almost as soon as it had landed. Gregory had fought for this in that split second, and it meant the world to Armand. And he was smitten? This six thousand year old gorgeous powerhouse wanted to worship _him_?

Armand smiled softly, meeting his eyes and nodding. “We can get through it,” he murmured, as if they were a young couple against the world. “You know how I said to you I was worried Daniel wouldn’t want me, that I was boring him?”

Gregory nodded, remembering the conversation clearly. “Yes. Is this still what is upsetting you?”

“…I was right. That is what’s upsetting me. Lestat doesn’t seem to think so but, by the time I got to Daniel, he was already filled with David’s blood. He’d asked for it, he told me. Daniel found that thrill somewhere else.” He swallowed, the pain coming back to him tenfold where he had managed to forget it in the heat of the moment with Gregory.

Gregory watched Armand melt into sadness, and felt in him the heartache and disappointment over Daniel. He immediately pulled Armand close and held him, kissing the soft hair of his head. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry,” he said gently. “David? How did David get to him again? I thought Lestat was watching him.”

Armand shook his head, but melted into those arms as he was secured by them. At least he had this, now. At least they hadn’t ended it, and he could sit in this place with Gregory whilst he worried for Daniel.

“I can’t pretend to know,” he mumbled, his hand against Gregory’s chest. “David does all things with disobedience and malice, apparently.” Gregory’s heartbeat was a comfort. “You don’t need to be sorry…but I am at a loss.”

Gregory held Armand’s head against his chest, a thumb caressing his temple. He rested his cheek against the top of Armand’s head, and scanned through the chateau for David. David was in Lestat’s tower, researching something in a book. Very relaxed. No sign of anything negative like malice or revenge within him.

“I’m sure it will all sort out,” Gregory reassured. “I’m confused though as to why Daniel would ask for it when he claimed to have fought it before.”

“Well that’s something else entirely,” Armand muttered. “Perhaps I acted too rashly in tearing David’s throat out.” He closed his eyes. He was hit with this overwhelming urge to kiss Gregory—a sign of gratitude, a compulsion to be near him—but Armand fought it in favor of remaining held.

“I drained him of David’s blood, fed him mine and left him coldly,” he murmured ashamedly. “He seemed to love every second of it, but I shouldn’t have left him.”

Gregory stroked Armand’s hair. “Sounds like Daniel got what he wanted…twice.” He wondered how that had affected Daniel. Two strong blood drinkers so quickly in one night. “Daniel will have to just learn from this. He may have unnecessarily caused you four nights of horror with me and Santh. I’m sure that’s weighing on him as well.”

“Four nights of horror that led me to your arms.” Armand shrugged. “Admit it, you’d never have seen me this way were it not for that. No more than any other blood drinker, anyway. It was a hard four nights, yes, and it did shake me, and I was terrified of you for a while. But I am glad it happened now, if only because it caught me your attention.”

“It did do that at least,” Gregory agreed with a small mirthless laugh. He tilted Armand’s face up and kissed his lips, and then his closed eyes. “Daniel will come around from this. He is just trying to find his center.”

“Earlier, he told me that I was his center. Not that I need or want to be. Only, it seems particularly audacious for him to say those things and then…” Armand trailed off. He sighed. None of it mattered now, anyway. He had been hurt, he would get over it. And when he next saw Daniel he would apologize. He stole another kiss. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to you immediately.”

Gregory gave him a feigned look of outrage at this. “You should be. I’m insulted. Always come to me first for all things.” He looked seriously at Armand again. “Do you want me to go collect Daniel for you? Do you want me to talk to him?”

“He wouldn’t hear it from you. He’s a feisty bastard,” Armand muttered. “Could you…could you tell me where he is though? Just so I know? Is he moping in that bloody rented room feeling sorry for himself? Or is he making his way to the chateau?” He pulled out of Gregory’s arms to look at him.

Gregory laughed a little. “I can handle a fledgling less than one hundred years old, Armand. I’m pretty convincing among other things.” He let his eyes drift away from Armand’s face, which was too distracting, so he could search for Daniel quickly. “He’s in the court’s Paris house. He’s safe.”

Armand sighed again, standing up from the bench. Naturally, he’d have to go to Daniel. Or should he stay away for the night? Give Daniel something to reflect on?

“What should I do?” He chewed his lip as he thought, his face the picture of anguish and confusion. He looked to Gregory for guidance.

Gregory watched Armand there, bathed in the moonlight, chewing his lip in that same deceptively innocent way he did sometimes when he said incredibly filthy things to Gregory during sex. Gregory smiled. “Stay with me. Let him stew for a bit. He is not an infant, Armand. Tough love is necessary sometimes.” He smiled again, touching Armand’s arm.

Armand nodded. He wanted to do right by Daniel this time, but damn it, Daniel wasn’t a child, and he didn’t need coddling. Never mind that he might feel guilty until the dawn took him, feel like he’d failed Daniel as a maker. Daniel had hurt him too, and Armand had every right to be angry about it.

Armand placed his hand upon Gregory’s. “What will we do?”

Gregory, pulled Armand back down to sit with him, then took his phone out of his pocket. “I actually have to answer these texts. I’m sorry. Give me a second.”

He quickly answered some of Chrysanthe’s questions about the new house she'd been setting up for their family in Versailles. “Do you want to go see Santh with me? Or do you want to go sit in my office and watch me do boring teleconferences? Or would you like to answer my wife’s questions about home decoration…which I honestly could care less about at this moment. Maybe you would like to help her. She is very encouraging of the time I've been spending with you. These are all options,” he said quietly distracted by the texting.

Armand gave this genuine thought. If there was truly nothing to do as his lover…boyfriend? No. Far too modern. Lover was good. If there was truly nothing to do as his lover went about his night but watch him, Armand would play into his strengths.

“How about I help Chrysanthe with decorating,” he offered. “And then work my magic while you’re doing teleconferences? If they’re on camera, presumably they’re from the waist up yes?”

Gregory smiled slowly, glancing at Armand. “They are waist up… I don’t know if I can keep a business face on for that, Armand. I know your talents.” He leaned in and kissed him. “But I like a challenge, so let’s do it.”

He quickly texted Chrystanthe that he was putting Armand on the line with her and handed the phone to him. “Don’t let her do anything in turquoise.”

“On it…turquoise rug, light fittings, walls, bedding…” Armand laughed to himself as he typed, though of course he was typing different suggestions. He was a good reader of people usually, and had an eye for these things. He’d make it work. “And I don’t think you could keep a business face on for that at all.”

Gregory held a hand over the phone to block Armand for a moment. “No, really, Armand. No turquoise. It reminds me of Egypt. I don’t like memories of Egypt… which Chrysanthe knows, of course, but sometimes tries to sneak it in.” He smiled and removed his hand. “Quick tips about me.” He smiled sweetly. “Maybe just wait for the meetings to be over, and then I won’t have to keep the business face on…and I can reciprocate.”

Armand nodded solemnly. “I respect you enough not to do that, I promise. For now anyway.” He smiled in turn. Never mind talk of sex now. He needed Gregory to know that it extended beyond that for him as well.

“Armand, did I invite you to my birthday party yet,” Gregory asked casually.

Armand had heard whispers of this birthday party Lestat was planning. How could he not? It was such a unique concept amongst their kind. He had begun to wonder if he would be invited at all. “No you haven’t. I hear there will be a cake,” he said amusedly.

Gregory couldn’t help but be excited about the party. “Yes! Cake and balloons!” He smiled brightly. “You are, of course, invited.”

Armand thought on this, setting Gregory’s phone down gently and humming as though he was uncertain. “Only if I’m made guest of honor,” he said haughtily. He didn’t mean it, not at all, but it was fun to play.

Gregory paused. “I believe as birthday boy, guest of honor is my title.” He quickly kissed the tip of Armand’s nose. “But you are the guest of honor in my heart.”

“I’ll take it.” Armand sighed wistfully, catching Gregory’s lips in a kiss and placing his hand on his chest again, over his heart, sliding it through his shirt as he locked eyes with him. “Only because it means there’s a place for me in there at all.”

Gregory tried to ignore the immediate heat the feel of Armand’s hand on his chest stirred in him. He held the eye contact and spoke seriously. “Of course there is a place for you in there.” He kissed Armand, biting his lower lip lightly. Drawing blood and sucking it off. “Don’t distract me. I have those meetings, remember.” He gathered up his phone and quickly texted Chrys. “I’m sending her your number so I can have my phone back.”

“It’s not my fault I’m irresistible to you.” Armand smirked, pulling away and standing. “Besides, you could use the distraction. Meetings are hell.”

“They are only hell if you are not the one in charge of them.” Gregory stood as well and began walking back into the chateau. “Let’s go then, and you see if you can distract me.”

—————————————————————

After taking an hour or so to brood on all Armand had told him about David and Daniel, as well as what happened with Gregory afterwards, Lestat stalked up the tower stairs to the rooms at the top that had become David’s prison—for all the good they seemed to do. He burst into the room, throwing open the doors with enough force that they clattered against their frames. “Congratulations!” he announced.

David startled at the sudden loud appearance. He closed the book he had open on the desk and scowled at Lestat. “Right, I’ll bite. Congratulations on what?”

Bite, indeed. Lestat’s eyes flashed darkly, but he had a wide smile on his face as he strode into the room. “You did it! Your sentence is up. David Talbot, you are now a free man.” He gestured to the wide open doors with a sweep of his arms as if expecting David to jump up and run straight out of them.

David remained still. Something was not right here. There was a definite edge to Lestat as he spoke these words. He glanced at the doors. “And this is because…why? I’ve done such a good job labeling invitations to Gregory’s birthday party?”

Lestat threw himself into one of the chairs at the hearth, his leg up over the arm so he could face David at the desk. “Your medication is working. You’re a brand new vampire. There’s no reason for you left to stay here. And honestly, as it turns out, to use the vernacular, nobody even gives a shit. So go on. Gather up your things, and go back to your old rooms.” He glanced around the chambers. “I think I’ll turn this space into a sanctuary for orphaned cats.”

David stared at Lestat, wishing for the millionth time he could still read his thoughts. “What is this, really? Is this about Daniel?” Because David had no illusions Daniel would be able to keep silent on the arrangement they’d made.

Lestat rolled his eyes, then concentrated on picking a bit of lint off his knee. “You’re free. It’s over. Go on out and do whatever you like, see whomever you please. Only…” He flicked away the lint. “Leave Louis alone, if you would. If he wanted to see you, he would have come up here. But Daniel, Viktor, Armand even, if you want to. Go on.”

David flinched slightly at those words. Lestat knew exactly where to twist the knife. He glanced toward the door to the stairs to the rooms below where Louis surely was. That door David never once approached this entire time. Whether Lestat’s words were true or not, it was a painful fear David had all these weeks…that Louis hated him now.

He stood, collected his books from the desk and headed for the door. “If that’s what you want, Lestat,” he replied politely, cold. “I’ll come back and collect the rest of my things when you are gone.”

Lestat tilted his head to rest his cheek on his hand and he smiled at David as if this were a wonderful day to be celebrated. He lifted his other hand and gave him a friendly wave goodbye.

And then once David was gone, Lestat sat there in his hearth chair for a long time, staring at the chair David had vacated at the desk. Eventually, he got up and opened the door to the inside stairs that led down to Louis’s room.

Lestat wasn’t surprised at all that Louis was nowhere to be found in their rooms. He’d taken to walking the city streets for hours after hunting, and most nights Louis didn’t come back until dawn. He hadn’t said six words to Lestat in as many days.

Lestat texted him to ask if he was coming back soon, but when he didn’t get an answer after thirty minutes, Lestat put his phone away and left by the window to fly out to forest on the mountain where he could be truly alone.


	32. Legacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lestat receives some bad news, Armand and Daniel discuss their relationship, and Viktor pays a visit to the newly emancipated David.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anytime a text message is in this format:  
> [textextext] / deleted  
> It means it was a text that the character typed out, but then deleted and did not send.

_Text conversation between David and Lestat_

David: I’ve removed all my things from your rooms. Have fun with your cat sanctuary.

Lestat: :cat: :kissing_cat:

\---------------------

_Text conversation between Armand and Daniel_

Armand: Are you okay?

Daniel: tired

Armand: You should be brimming with energy from all the blood you’ve had.

Daniel: tired in the brain

Armand: come home, get some rest with me.

Daniel: you’d have me?

Armand: Do you even want me?

Daniel: Yes, fuck, more than anything

Armand: I won’t pretend I’m not upset, but in hindsight I may have overreacted. Slightly. Come home.

Daniel: we can talk later? I’ll come home. I’m so tired. I want to dig a hole in the garden and sleep

Armand: If people find out that Armand’s only fledgling took his first great sleep for this, we’ll both be a laughing stock. Come home, you idiot.

Daniel: up to me now to uphold the family honor? We’re fucked

Armand: I’m not asking at this point. Get home, now.

Daniel:…aight boss. isa four hour drive

Armand: I’ll have someone fly you.

Daniel: _[please don_ _’t] / deleted_

\-------------------------

The conversation had not been a long one. A few minutes, at most. There was nothing really for Lestat to do or say, but quietly accept everything Louis had to say. After all, hadn’t Lestat known this was coming? It had been already happening now for so long that the final goodbye was just a formality at this point. No need for it to take long at all.

Louis was leaving court.

Leaving France. Leaving Lestat. Leaving them all. For how long, he did not know. But for now.

Early in the evening, the two of them discussed it quiet voices in Louis’s rooms. _Their_ rooms. And the simplicity of it all was absolutely, positively, unendurably excruciating.

And then, once Louis was truly gone, Lestat stayed in their bedroom alone for hours.

Time blurred as he sat on the floor beside the bed, staring at the patterns in the carpet and quietly resenting anyone and everyone who had told him over the past few weeks that he was wrong about Louis leaving… Hating them for the false hope they’d given Lestat despite how much he should have known better. Lestat had tried _everything_ , after all, absolutely everything he could try to make Louis want to stay. And none of it had worked.

His phone went off a few times, and Lestat glanced at it, but they were only messages and calls from the companies he was coordinating with for Gregory’s party. Not urgent. It could wait. Or someone else could handle it. Lestat had taken care of all the important things, anyway.

Eventually, he got sick of the noise and thought about throwing his iPhone out the French doors, over the balcony. But really, he’d rather throw himself that way…into the sky and away from everything.

Lestat started typing out a text to Gregory, but paused halfway through, remembering the way Gregory had looked at him last night in the gardens. The hostile animosity in Gregory’s eyes because Lestat had been holding Armand.

Lestat left the message unfinished and unsent and tossed the phone up on the bed behind him. Then he left room by the balcony and flew East, planning to keep going until he met the sunrise so he could just go to sleep.

\--------------------------

Armand had brought his armchair out onto the balcony of his apartment’s parlor, craving the air and the sight of the stars. The benefit of being a vampire was that one could see far more of them than any mortal; the benefit of the Auvergne was that one could see more than many other places. He put his phone down with a sigh. He’d thought of texting Gregory, but Armand shouldn’t come to depend upon him, and this imminent conversation with Daniel was something he should face alone. He brought the blanket around himself and looked out at the moon. It was larger than usual.

Daniel still felt strung out, his senses sharp even for a blood drinker, and he’d taken for the night the habit of wearing dark glasses to try and tone down how bright and overwhelming everything around him was. When he finally arrived at the chateau, he went straight for Armand’s rooms, knowing he didn’t need to knock, and also knowing he really didn’t want to be here.

No. He did. He just wished he could be here without having fucking broken Armand’s heart.

“Hey, boss,” he sighed from the open door to the balcony. “I uh. I’m home.”

“Hi,” Armand murmured without looking at Daniel, his voice soft as though he were loathe to disturb the serenity of the night. Especially with the weight of the conversation they were about to share. “Drag a chair out, if you want to sit. You might like to.”

Daniel grabbed one from near the window, and dragged it outside, sitting backwards to fold his arms over the back of the chair. He didn’t know where to even start, or if he should wait for his maker to speak first. Was there etiquette for this? Probably. Not that psycho Daniel would know it.

Armand stayed silent for a very long while, his eyes trained on the moon. He’d thought that he’d calmed himself down now, but it seemed he was wrong. It seemed that now Daniel was here, his emotions were raw and hurting again, as if he had brought them with him.

“David?” Armand snapped after keeping himself contained for too long. He looked at Daniel briefly, eyes ablaze with indignation and disbelief before he looked back at the sky.

“Yeah, David,” said Daniel through grit teeth, too frazzled to show the shame and humility he probably should. God knows he felt plenty of it. “I went to David. I asked him for this. Well…truthfully, he found me out on a hunt, and I asked him then. I don’t have an excuse. I wasn’t spellbound, I wasn’t drunk.”

“Just tired of me,” Armand snapped again, coldly, unable to look at Daniel as the pain came back to his chest, as if some great hand was clenching at his heart and making it hard to breathe. “Why didn’t you tell me you were bored?”

“Bored!” Daniel gasped out, peppering it with exhausted laughter. “Bored! Like it’s that simple!” He shook his head, trying to look up at the moon but finding it too bright. “Bored isn’t right. And believe it or not, boss, but I can make a decision that isn’t based around you.”

Armand nodded, incensed by Daniel’s laughter. It rang like mockery. He clenched his fist tightly. “Fine, then. You’ve made your bed, now lie in it. Go to David. Go anywhere else.”

“Yeah, David wants me, sure,” Daniel began to ramble out loud. All that vampiric blood in his system still had him feeling light and quick. “Sounds like what I’d want, right? Some asshole to beat me up. Didn’t know I got my masochism from you. Too bad I couldn’t have inherited something useful from your blood. Coulda been strong or psychic, but nope! I just ended up stupid and crazy, isn’t that a riot?”

The moon was getting brighter, and Daniel stared at it long after it began to hurt.

Armand sighed, closing his eyes. Daniel rambling like a half mad thing on his balcony as if it were a stage for the whole chateau; it was not an ideal state of affairs. But he had caused it, after all. It was his fault that Daniel had gone mad in the first place. “What was it then, if not boredom?”

He shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe it was boredom. I’m always bored, though. Wake up, try to write, wander around the castle, hunt, come home. Marius is gone. You’re busy around the court. What have I got?”

Armand didn’t know what to make of this. Daniel was tired, he was making Armand tired just by coming out with all of this now. What was he supposed to feel, when every single one of Daniel’s words seemed laced with some kind of spite. “I don’t know, Daniel.”

“Me neither,” Daniel sighed. “It just…it felt good, Armand, when he gave me blood. And I’d been thinking about it since, and I know it’s fucked up cause it was rape, but was it really? I don’t honestly know if I asked for it or not, and it’s all I can think of, cause then it’s my fault you got hurt, and fuck I’m tired.”

“I shouldn’t have attacked him,” Armand said absently. “I should have just let you fight your own battles.” If Armand thought too much on it, it would hurt too much. Make him too angry.

Daniel tucked his head down further, scrubbing his face against his arms. “…I love you that you did, though,” he whispered tenderly. “That you’d fight for me? That you’d look out for me? Just don’t deserve it though, Armand. Your firstborn was a mistake.”

“Shut up, Daniel.” Armand spoke immediately, but his voice had a softness to it now. He turned to look at him, finally. This was a feeling he knew all too well for himself. “My own maker once called me his greatest mistake. And years later, he tried to retract that statement. But the pain of it tore my heart in two and stayed with me for the rest of time. You are not a mistake, Daniel. You are my fledgling, and I love you.”

“Marius was a fool to call you that,” said Daniel, a bit snappier than he would usually be when talking about the man who had cared for him for so long. “You were perfect, and strong. You didn’t go crazy the moment you had the blood. Meanwhile I got everything I wanted, and now what do I have?”

“I also cut off a man’s hands because his way of self-expression agitated me. I orchestrated the murder of my entire coven because I grew weary of ruling them. I detached a child blood drinker’s head from her body and tried to attach it to another to fulfill her wishes of growing up before having her murdered too. I threw Lestat off of a tower and broke all his bones. I hurled myself into the sun at the first promise of God. I tore David’s throat out and bashed his skull against the concrete without pausing for thought, and I’m currently having a torrid affair with the man that brutally tortured and mutilated me for four nights straight.” Armand reeled off his problems, knowing they were many, knowing there were plenty more even from his mortal life alone.

“I am not perfect,” he continued. “I am twisted, and disgusting, and sociopathic, and I’d thought I’d improved, but I’m still the same. I didn’t go crazy when given the blood because I already was. You are good. You are confused, but there’s not a malicious bone in your body, Daniel Molloy. You have your integrity. You have your inner strength and your ability to stand against even the ancients here and speak your piece. You have this court as your legacy, having put Louis’s story out into the world. You have your brains. You have my love, completely and irrevocably.”

 _His legacy_. Daniel doubted that severely. This wasn’t _his_ legacy. What had he done? Listen to a story by the man he’d picked up at a bar, who he thought was just eccentric, then cleaned it up, polished Louis’s stumbling and pauses and narration, crafted it into a readable story. But it was Louis’s story…

Usually, Daniel was proud of that work, and quietly enjoyed the infrequent gratitude he was given for it, but right now, he was so tired and felt unworthy of such praise. Hell, he wasn’t even mentioned in Lestat’s last tale, some leftover from a petty slight… Daniel had said something about Marius at least remembering all of his fledglings, unlike Lestat who only pretended to have loved Antoine all along. Daniel didn’t remember. He was…well he’d fed at a rave that night.

He’d been seeking a thrill for a while, it seemed.

“You’re apeshit,” Daniel said. “And I love you the more for it.”

“Sure,” Armand said quietly. Just as he often found it hard to believe Marius loved him when he said it, so had this sentiment become bittersweet when uttered by Daniel. And if what Armand had with Gregory ever evolved to that, if he ever said those words, Armand wouldn’t believe it from him either. Because ultimately, Armand was unlovable, tainted, and only worth his pretty face and the thrill he gave people for the first couple of goes. Everybody wanted a go with crazy Armand.

“Why don’t you get some sleep?” he said gently to Daniel.

Daniel shook his head. “Not that kind of tired,” he argued, despite the sleepy tone to his voice. “I’m absolutely electric from the blood, between the two of you, there’s no way I could sleep now in the middle of the night. So much energy to burn all the damn time…when do you think I’ll fly?” he asked suddenly, the train of thought perfectly sound to him.

“I’m sure you could try it, if you put your mind to it. Do me a favor though, and do it at ground level. I don’t want you jumping off of my balcony and falling flat,” Armand murmured without a hint of a smile. He pulled his phone out to text Gregory before placing it back on the arm of the chair and sighing gently.

“Yeah I’ll just think happy thoughts like Peter Pan taught me,” said Daniel, then had to blink back an unpleasant moment of shock.

Right, that movie came out the year he was born. 67 years old now, stuck in a body half that age. It was always just a startling realization these days that he would probably be in the last ten years or so of his mortal life. His dad died around 70, his mom 77. That was as far as Daniel had looked up, though once in a while, he Googled his siblings. This was becoming less and less frequent, though. He wanted to ask Armand what it felt like, once you got to the point where you knew everyone you loved was dead, but Armand had no such experience. He’d lost everyone at once.

“Maybe a nap wouldn’t hurt,” Daniel conceded. “…Who you texting?”

“Gregory,” Armand admitted quietly, smiling a little at the text he’d just received before putting his phone back down. He didn’t care if it bothered Daniel. Not right now, anyway, when it was all so raw in his heart.

“You know where the bed is. For what it’s worth, I am happy to have you home. And…I’m sorry I treated you so cruelly last night.” He sighed.

Daniel didn’t feel right accepting the apology. He’d slept with Armand’s (their?) rapist after all, so why shouldn’t he be furious? With the shit Daniel pulled, Armand would have grey streaks by now if he could.

“Gregory is hot,” was all Daniel could think to say, his small nod of approval to Armand’s current…situation.

Armand laughed at this. He couldn’t help it. He nodded and turned to Daniel fully. “He is. And he seems to be on your side. He believes that you’re very young and you should be allowed to make mistakes.” He sighed, eyes raking over him before he patted the arm of his giant chair. “Sit.”

“What, not right on your lap?” Daniel teased, as he perched himself into the arm. He had a vampire’s grace and balance, even as a noodle.

“…Love you, Armand. Always love you. I guess the crazy just runs in the blood.”

Armand sighed and put his phone aside. He stood and pulled Daniel up and pushed him down to sit in the armchair, before curling up on Daniel’s lap and bringing the blanket around them. “You’re bonier than me, and I don’t want to get stabbed by all of it if you sit on me,” he muttered. “But I love you too. That’s why I’m so hurt.”

Armand was definitely less boney. He was built small and strong, and lovely to hold. Daniel was especially fond of feeling the muscles in his legs, watching them pale and bare in bed. He eased his hand to the back of Armand’s thigh.

“I know,” Daniel sighed. “I knew it was an awful idea, Armand, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. About David. About that momentary…activity…it brought into my daily routine.”

Armand nodded his understanding, sighing as he allowed Daniel’s words to sink in. “I am sorry you’ve lost that thrill…I will try to be more exciting. Gregory and I are going to teach you how to fly.” He smiled, hoping that might do the trick.

“…I’m not sure I like the sound of that, Armand, since the only reference I can remember to how you do that is to just drop someone from a mile in the god damned air and see if they get it.”

“Gregory can drop you, I’ll catch you. You do trust me to catch you, don’t you?” Armand asked, looking into Daniel’s eyes for the first time that night searchingly. If Daniel didn’t trust him, well that was pretty audacious given the circumstances.

“Oh I trust you with my life, Boss. Even mad at me I know that,” Daniel assured his pretty little lover. “It’s just the point leading up to it that sounds pants-shittingly terrifying.”

“You’ll be fine. We all did it. I had to do it on my own,” Armand assured, looking out over the sky again. “I think you need to find someone else, there are hundreds of blood drinkers in this chateau—you must be able to make friends with one of them.”

Daniel didn’t want to talk about making friends; it was awkward. He was awkward (had he always been awkward? He seemed to remember having enough friends back in school). And more than friends, he wanted a purpose. He wanted a reason to write again.

“If you drop me, you’re the one that has to take care of me till I regrow all those shattered bones you know. Can you even catch someone at terminal velocity?

————————————————

_The text conversation Armand was having with Gregory while talking to Daniel on the balcony_

Armand: Tell me you’ve been having a terrible evening so I can laugh at you and make myself feel better.

Gregory: Just had argument with Chrys about throw pillows matching rugs. That’s about all I have for you.

Gregory: Why do you need to feel better?

Armand: Don’t argue with her, she’s running on my advice.

Gregory: See, I thought that might be a mistake to let you two talk. Tell me why you are upset.

Armand: Loving people is hard.

Gregory: No. It’s very easy. Don’t put so much thought into it. :heart:

Armand: How can I not? It’s Daniel.

Gregory: Daniel is very young. Let him mess up once in a while.

Armand: Oh, let me be mad

Gregory: What is he doing? I would think he’s still on a high from two doses of strong blood so quickly.

Armand: flitting about on my balcony going on about flying and feeling sorry for himself. He feels guilty, I know it. He also said you were hot.

Gregory: Well the Queen chose me for looks. I think you know how that works, Armand.

Armand: I think it was his way of telling me he approves of us. But the queen had good taste.

Gregory: That’s sweet. Do you want me to teach him to fly?

Armand: Perhaps we both could. A joint effort.

Gregory: Sure. Let’s meet on top of the North tower. I’ll toss him off.

Armand: …on second thought, stay away from my fledgling, you pervert. Unless you intend to give me the same treatment.

Gregory: How is throwing him off a tower perverse?

Armand: You know precisely what you’re saying

Gregory: I do. But I’m not serious. I only have eyes for you at the moment. The safer method is to fly him straight up as high as possible and drop him. Then catch him if he doesn’t get the hang of it in time.

Armand: Hmm…he’ll figure it out while one of the oldest most powerful blood drinkers on earth tells me he only has eyes for me

Gregory: He’ll figure what out?

Armand: How to fly. You just tell me how pretty I am :wink:

Gregory: You are so much more than pretty.

Armand: Like what?

Gregory: You have an inner strength that doesn’t give in to being beaten down. That is what drew me to you those 4 nights in that cave. It’s a kindred thing we share. You are intelligent and brave and fiercely devoted to those you love.

Armand: …I was just looking for beautiful, but I’ll settle for all of that.

Armand: For the record, I think the same of you

Gregory: Armand, do you know what all these hieroglyphs are about for these text apps? I think I’m using them wrong. :fox: :watermelon: :skull: :snake: :high_brightness:

Armand: Not quite hieroglyphs in your sense of the term, darling. They’re just used to liven up the place.

Gregory: Then I suppose I’m livening up a lot. My assistant finds it highly amusing when I use them.

\--------—————-----------

Viktor probably shouldn’t have gone into Louis’s rooms. Privacy was something everyone learned young, but Lestat _had_ said he could borrow any of their books whenever he wanted, and Viktor couldn’t imagine his dad being mad about that. But even so, Viktor had made sure—double sure!—no one was inside before he let himself in. And no one had been. But Viktor had found something more than books there.

Now, he stood outside the door to David’s rooms—the personal apartment David had always kept before he’d been imprisoned in the tower. Viktor knocked and waited for an answer.

David looked up from his parlor desk, where he was still researching something for Gremt. He couldn’t read the mind of who was on the other side of the door, which meant it was possibly Lestat. He wasn’t exactly prepared for Lestat’s confusing behavior tonight. He answered the door and found not Lestat, but his double. “Viktor,” he said in a quiet voice, quickly noting he was alone.

Viktor stood tall, straight-shouldered and proud, and yet trying to be casual. Yeah, this was the man he’d made out with and kinda cheated on his wife with, but that was just a slip. It was fine, and he was here for a reason.

“David, brother,” he greeted kindly, and tried to give an easy smile. “I hope I’m not bothering you? And that I uh…am not intruding.”

David had to smile at Viktor’s effort to be casual and formal all at once. “Brother,” he replied softly. He hoped this wasn’t Viktor calling for a second round. But this was his little brother, and he couldn’t be rude and tell him to leave. “No, you’re not intruding at all.” He opened the door for Viktor to enter.

Viktor accepted with a gentle thanks, keeping calm as he heard the door click behind him.

No lock this time.

“I have ah…heard there’s been drama around the castle lately,” said Viktor, trying to address the obvious gossip about Daniel without laying any blame to David. “But I’ve also heard your medication is working?”

David tried not to roll his eyes. He walked back to his desk and leaned against it, crossing one leg over the other and his arms on his chest, watching Viktor. The boy’s clothing tonight was as disturbingly off the rack as usual. David felt that as an older brother, he should be doing something about Viktor’s terrible fashion. Lestat obviously wasn’t doing so himself.

“Yes,” David answered. “I suppose the medication is working. I haven’t killed or forced anything on anyone who hasn’t wanted it recently.”

“Well that’s good to hear, considering how… unwell…you’ve been. And you’re free now! That’s wonderful!” Viktor was so bad at this bonding thing. Ah, well. He’d learn.

“Ah…David? I’m actually here on business, as much as I do want to visit you…and I’m not just saying that to flatter you through your…difficult time, I promise. You keep Dad’s phone for him, right? Or is that just a running joke?”

David stared at Viktor. He was struck again by how completely awkward Viktor was in social situations, and again felt a need to take him under wing and teach him. “I’m the keeper of the royal phone, yes,” David drawled with perhaps too much sarcasm dripping from every word. “It is both a running joke and a reality.” He raised a brow, “Why are you asking?”

“Well, because you seem to be slacking in your work, older brother,” he quipped, and for once was rather proud of his quick wit as he took Lestat’s iPhone from his back pocket and held it out. “I found this lying around without anyone to keep it!”

David scowled at the phone in Viktor’s hand. “Where did you find it?” He walked over and took the phone. How very predictable of Lestat to just leave it out forgotten again. “Why does he do this? It’s impossible to blame it on his 18th century ways. Ancient Egyptians are keeping their damned phones on them just fine.” David couldn’t keep the irritation and slight anger out of his voice. Lestat had been downright cruel when he’d last spoken to David, and it still stung.

Viktor had to put a small pause on his delight as he confessed. “Ah…I found it in Louis’s room. But I wasn’t snooping around, I was looking for a book, and I have permission to enter for reading material so long as it’s empty, and I was careful to make sure it was empty after our recent rendezvous.”

David forgot the phone for a moment and let his hand, which held the phone, fall to his side. Of course Viktor would clumsily mention their tryst this way. And David had an unbidden image suddenly of Viktor, breathless and wanton beneath him. He banished it as quickly as it appeared. He wouldn’t go there again, and he may have to tell Viktor that.

“Well, thank you for the phone…I suppose.” David looked at it again. Louis’s room. Rather Louis _and_ Lestat’s room. Perhaps Lestat had intended to return for it, and Viktor had claimed it too quickly.

He turned his attention back on Viktor. “Are you well, Brother?”

“Fine, I’m fine.” Viktor shrugged off, peering at the phone in David’s hand.

“That uh…it went off a few times when I had it,” he pointed out, wanting to be helpful. “You remember how wallet chains were popular once, tacky as they were? Perhaps we can do something similar with his phone. Tether it to his wallet or his trousers!” He laughed, really not wanting to be taken too seriously and have David explain to him in his overwrought British drawl why that was a terrible idea. Even if Viktor liked his British drawl.

“He doesn’t carry a wallet either,” David said, though he knew Viktor was just being humorous. He smiled at him then. “I’m sorry, I’m in a bad mood, Viktor. He and I are having a bit of a quarrel right now. Have you spoken to him recently? He’s seems…off to me. I don’t think it’s all from my bad behavior.”

Viktor’s humor left him quickly, shoulders slumping. He shifted his weight onto one hip, fiddling absently with his wedding band for a moment. “He uh…yeah, he seemed odd a few nights ago when I ran into him. He seemed so distant. Talked a lot about Louis, but it wasn’t his usual gushing love poetry, you know? He was kind of…resentful? Are they fighting?” he finally asked David, and he immediately hated how pitiful his voice sounded, childish and full of surely misplaced worry.

David didn’t like the sound of that. “Resentful? Of Louis? That seems impossible.” David looked at the phone in his hand. He remembered Lestat’s last stinging words to him, to stay away from Louis.

“I don’t think they are fighting,” he reassured Viktor, who seemed oddly like a small child asking if his parents were getting a divorce. Of course, David didn’t know if it was true or not about Lestat and Louis fighting. “What did he say about Louis?” David asked casually. He entered the password to open Lestat’s phone and noted the recent missed calls from different vendors for the upcoming party.

“It was more what he _didn_ _’t_ say about Louis…or the way he said what he said. He remarked about Louis not doing anything but reading, and probably not showing up to the party. David, I didn’t like the way he spoke,” Viktor added, feeling suddenly vulnerable and rather stupid for it.

David nodded in understanding, though he was honestly alarmed by these words. He placed a reassuring hand on Viktor’s shoulder and squeezed lightly. “It will all be fine, Viktor. This is a thing they do. Drift apart, get back together, drift apart again.”

It made sense now that Lestat had warned him away from Louis. But David still resented it. Perhaps he could reach Louis, if Lestat wasn’t able to. And where were the two of them now?

Viktor still looked concerned. David’s instinct was to give him a comforting hug, so he did so.

It was awkward, initially, to be drawn in close to David, to be embraced, and Viktor bristled unintentionally. He could just imagine Lestat walking in right then and getting entirely the wrong idea. But at the same time, David was his brother. The embrace was strictly platonic, and it honestly just felt nice. Viktor returned it, giving him a firm hug back.

“I know I shouldn’t worry,” Viktor sighed as they pulled apart. “But this is the first I have seen them like this, you understand.”

David returned to going through Lestat’s phone for some clue as to where they went. The recent text messages were interesting. It seemed several times Lestat had tried to contact Louis and had little or no answer. The most recent was last night. And there was one message typed out but unsent to Gregory. David sent that one along, although it was a confusing message. ‘ _He_ _’s gone. I can’t,’_ was all it said. Presumably Gregory would understand it.

“I don’t know where Lestat went,” David admitted. “He might be with Louis. I will try to contact Louis, but he doesn’t always answer me.” David tried not to let his frustration seep into his words.

“I could try!” Viktor offered immediately, already reaching for his phone, though his enthusiasm was quick to waver. “Though…I haven’t heard from Seth or Fareed in some time, myself… Starting to think my phone’s just busted.” He gave a light laugh to dispel his anxiety over such a point.

David answered a few of the urgent messages Lestat had received, then he sat in one of the comfortable chairs and watched Viktor try to contact Louis as well. “It’s fine, Viktor. I’m sure they will be back soon. Perhaps they took a few nights away together and didn’t see fit to tell us. I just hope they return before this birthday party for Gregory. I didn’t sign up for party planning, but now I’m it. I don’t suppose you can help me with this as well?”

“David, I have never planned an event in my entire life beyond a date with Rose,” said Viktor with such a dead seriousness that he had to start laughing himself from it. “But I can Google, and Rose is an absolute charmer on the phone. I think…it would be good to spend more time with you. If you trust me.”

“Of course, Rose can charm people on the phone for us. I trust you with balloons and cake, Viktor.” David laughed, “Won’t Lestat be proud to know you are learning event planning? I’ll teach you. I know how to plan and coordinate things. Just not usually parties.”

“How exactly does a vampire celebrate their birthday?” Viktor was really wanting to know, half serious behind his teasing. “Are we going to have 6001 birthday candles for him? I’m sure with the fire gift, it would be nothing to light! …Why are we having cake?”

David was jotting down notes and cross-referencing on Lestat’s phone what was already done and what had to be checked on or set up. “I believe he’s already ordered 6,000 candles to be placed all around the ballroom. Talk about a fire hazard.” David handed some notes to Viktor to handle. “Cake because Gregory wants to experience the full birthday treatment, and he’s fascinated by cakes. Do you know him at all? I know Fareed and Seth are close with him, but did you ever have many conversations with him?”

Viktor thought back several years, to the precious few times he’d met the ancient one. He’d been five at one visit, after an update to Fareed’s lab, and Gregory was a terrifying being to Viktor. Of course, he knew vampires, even ancient ones, but when Gregory had swept Viktor into his lap to hold, he’d been so shaken at first.

“I don’t know him well,” he confessed, thinking on how his memory continued, a smile growing. “But I did fall asleep on his lap once as a little boy.”

David tried to imagine that scene and smiled. “How sweet. I’m sure he remembers you very clearly.” David wondered what was to stop Fareed and Seth from making another clone of a vampire, and why no vampires had yet to request it of them. “Do you think you and Rose will ever have Fareed clone a child for you?”

Viktor gave an immediate and emphatic “No!” to this question, seeming to take David by surprise. So with some embarrassment and an awkward smile, he tried to smooth it over.

“I mean…I just mean it’s a…unique experience, being a cl…being like me. And I’m not sure it’s something I would want to raise another child with… So what kind of cake are we having?” he finished cheerfully, putting on his Lestat de Lioncourt grin.

“So no children for Viktor. Got it. But I would imagine Lestat would love to be a grandpa.” DAvid smirked at that thought. “It looks like Lestat has ordered some fancy red velvet cake.”

“What, like blood?” asked Viktor with a small laugh. He pulled out his phone, sending a reminder text to himself to look up elaborate parties, see what sort of bashes dad’s favorite rock stars threw, sans all the booze and hard drugs. Those did nothing for them without a blood base anyway.

Something seemed heavy in Viktor’s chest, though, as he looked at the words on his phone. “Why would dad just up and leave and not tell anyone?” he asked. “That seems…impulsive.” He wouldn’t dare say what word he would actually call it.

David looked up from Lestat’s phone. “He does this, Viktor. He just skips out. Even right after he made me, he would just up and leave me and Louis alone. Eventually, it led to the whole Memnoch fiasco.” David sighed heavily. “I can’t hold him down. It’s impossible. And lately, Louis does the same thing. It’s exhausting for me, so I just let it happen now.”

“But that was…everything was different then, wasn’t it?” asked Viktor, trying with difficulty to keep his voice even and without undue emotion. He didn’t want to appear anxious or worried around David, who, sickness aside was so calm and regal. “We have court now. We;re a culture now…family…”

David could sense Viktor’s distress over this sudden absence Lestat had taken, but he was at a loss as to how to help him. “We had a family then too, Viktor. He had exactly what would make him happy, Louis and me and that little flat in New Orleans. This Court, grand as it is, is also a great amount of work and weight to carry. I’m really not at all surprised he ducks out now and then. What is it that is really upsetting you, brother?”

There was no way Viktor could look at David and admit what pained him. Not David Talbot of the Talamasca, not Lestat’s strongest fledgling, of which he was most proud.

“Just miss him is all,” he said with a sad shrug and a half smile. And Louis. And Fareed. And even Marius as a last resort. “I think I’m going to go find Rose, work on this party, huh? Can you text me any plans Lestat already had?”

“Yes, of course I’ll text you the plans. But Viktor, before you race off. I need to talk to you about your…wardrobe. Really, you need an update, dear boy. You’re the Prince’s son. You have to dress up more.”

Viktor warmed at the acknowledgement of his position in court, his relationship to Lestat, even if it was colored by a hint of undeserving shame. “Ah…well, I already promised dad he could dress me as he wanted for the party. I won’t deny him that pleasure, at least.”

David had visions of some too brightly colored suit with far too much lace and pearl buttons spilling out all over Viktor. “Just please try to deter him from putting you in anything Versace. And here, I’m texting you his tailor’s contact details.”

Viktor could see the vision in David’s mind and cringed visibly at it. But if that’s what Lestat wanted him to wear, he did promise. And everything at the chateau seemed like a disaster, so it really was nothing, Viktor thought, to let him dress him for the night. The rest, though?

Fine. He’ll let David text him the tailor, but he didn’t have to use it. He just had so many more important things to care about than his clothes.

“David…do you think Dad’s happy here? Like, in general.”

David thought. “What is happy? No, I don’t think he is. I think he’s tired and wants to go away from all of it. And Louis’s distance isn’t helping.” David couldn’t help remembering their conversation the other night when Viktor had stolen those thoughts from Lestat’s mind. Could Louis really be leaving them? Had he gone already? Was Lestat chasing him? What did ‘ _He_ _’s gone. I can’t’_ mean? What had Lestat been trying to tell Gregory? And why didn’t he finish sending the text before abandoning his phone?

“I don’t know what makes him happy, Viktor. It’s not me, and it’s not this Court, apparently. Lestat has everything here that should keep him happy, but it’s not grounding him.”

Somehow, Viktor had been afraid that was what David would say.  
  



	33. Wrecked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armand and Santh come to an...arrangement. Meanwhile, Gregory picks up the slack at court during Lestat's mysterious absence before letting off some steam with Armand.

_Text conversation between David and Louis_

David: Louis, are you doing okay?

Louis: Yes, I’m in New Orleans. I needed the familiarity.

David: I understand. Sometimes I think of going back to England for a bit. I do miss you.

Louis: I miss you too. There is too much going on…I don’t know if I can handle it

David: Is it my fault you left? I will go back to UK, and you can come back here to him.

Louis: No, don’t be ridiculous.

David: :heart: When you come back, we can discuss recent books we’ve read.

Louis: If I come back.

David: Louis, you must come back. Why wouldn’t you?

Louis: There is so much drama.

David: There is no drama now, my love. I’m on medication. I’m better. I’m out of the tower. Lestat is planning a party. It’s all back to normal. Viktor wants to see you too.

David: Louis, do you know where Lestat is? He’s been gone for two nights.

David: :heart:

———————————————————

Armand had taken to gazing at the stars as of late, more so than before. It made little sense; he had so many good things going on down on land, now. But looking at them instilled a calm within him. He’d sat in an armchair next to the window in one of the castle’s many salons, and he delighted in what he could see through the glass, watching the night go by without a thought to anyone around him.

Santh was walking the halls of the Chateau, with no destination in mind, when he passed the great doorway into the salon. He paused, seeing that Armand was in there, seated quietly before the window. He hadn’t seen him since the nights of torture in the cave, although Gregory had told him all about how he was newly involved with Armand. Santh entered the room and stood beside Armand’s chair, looking calmly down at him. “Hello, Little Lamb.”

Armand shifted in his chair. He had joked about getting Santh involved with himself and Gregory, and he knew how close the two of them were, but Santh made him just a little bit nervous. There was something intimidating in his presence that he always carried with him, where Gregory could put it away when needed. Still, it paid to be polite to people like Santh.

“Good evening.” Armand smiled up at him, gesturing to the chair before him. He would rather have all of Santh where he could see him.

Santh sat in the chair opposite as Armand indicated and glanced out the windows, admiring the view. Then back to Armand, who seemed perfectly at ease with the sudden appearance of one who had cruelly tortured him. “You are not afraid. That is very brave or very stupid of you. Why are you here watching the twinkle stars?”

“I am afraid,” Armand said quietly, folding his arms as if to protect himself. The fact that Santh would even say such things made him feel as though he might attack him. “You don’t like them? They bring me peace.”

Santh gave Armand a soft smile. “I won’t hurt you…unless you ask nicely.” He looked back to the dark sky full of stars. “Same stars, different millennium. Why do you need peace?”

Armand relaxed a little bit. He could see why Santh and Gregory were so close—they were very similar people despite looking like opposites, Santh fair and golden while Gregory was dark and flinty.

“I don’t,” Armand answered. “I am happier than I have been in a long while. But they still make me happy to look at, especially as of late. What can I do for you?”

Santh shrugged lightly. Armand was nice to look at, and Santh had secretly enjoyed the nights with him in the forest a little too much. “There is nothing you need to do for me. I’m just checking on you. It seems Nebamun is very fond of you.”

Armand couldn’t stifle a smile at this. God, he felt like an idiot. A school boy in his first fling. He looked downward and shook his head. “Yes… Well, he’s very fond of you, too. He mentions you a lot.” Never mind that Santh was the only person Gregory said he would share Armand with during this phase of possessiveness… If that didn’t speak of closeness, he didn’t know what did.

Santh grinned, completely reading Armand’s emotions on this topic. He slid his chair a little closer. “Armand, you selected me several times over him, back in that cave. And yet you end up with him outside of it… Why?”

Armand paled. He couldn’t explain this visceral reaction of fear and thrill combined that Santh awoke within him. He swallowed thickly and peered at him. Was it that Santh was just so damned attractive? Gregory was too, of course he was. But as Santh had said…Armand had chosen him.

“He-he came to me first,” he answered. “He seemed to be more interested, and now he and I…well, we have this connection. I wouldn’t be without him now. And I told you…you’re a little bit terrifying. I mean so is he—” Armand jumped from thought to thought, feeling as though he needed to explain himself or apologize in case Santh wanted to skin him alive.

Santh laughed beneath his breath. He reached out and smoothed a hand over Armand’s soft auburn curls. He’d done this several times back in the forest too, under the guise of pushing blood-sweat curls off Armand’s forehead. “I told you, I’m not going to hurt you.” He sat back, to give Armand his space again. “I’m sorry if I’m scary. It is hard to not be frightening when one is so tall and imposing and old, like me.” Santh paused. “Although, I think Nebamun is more scary,” he joked.

Armand trained his eyes on Santh for a moment, relaxing further still. He’d pulled himself closer, he’d itched then to pet at his curls, as if Santh couldn’t keep his hands to himself. Santh wanted to be around him. He’d just taken this long to make that apparent. “It doesn’t bother you that I chose you then and now I’m with him, does it?”

“No. I’m amused by it, is all. He maybe just beat me to it first.” Santh laughed. “Does it bother you? Maybe I’m better. We’re competitive like that, he and I.”

“What I can’t understand is why. Why both of you care enough to try. Is it simply that, a competition?” Armand asked thoughtfully. “Gregory, I can understand. Well, not immediately, but I’d like to think that he and I have a connection. But both of you? Two of the oldest blood drinkers on earth, and you take even the blindest bit of interest in me? It has to just be competition.”

Santh smiled as Armand tried to rationalize the whole situation. “For him, it’s not a competition. I know that. For me, I want to know why he’s so besotted. We share everything, so how can it be competition?”

“You should ask him why he is. I cannot tell you. I don’t understand it myself, so I am not the person to come to,” Armand murmured. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Santh around, rather that he couldn’t quite wrap his head around why he had come to him. That last part though, that both caught his interest and concerned him. “Do you both truly intend to share me?”

“I will ask him,” Santh replied. He sat back in his chair and looked out the window again, long white fingers drumming softly on the arm of the chair. “Only if you wanted to be shared.” He stood then and leaned down to place a kiss on the top of Armand’s head. “I will leave you alone with your stars.”

“You don’t need to go,” Armand said firmly, catching Santh’s sleeve as he stood and tugging on it to make his point. “I’m not done with you.” It was a bold move, and inwardly, he felt fear. But it might impress Santh.

Santh looked own at his sleeve and then at Armand’s face, which was angelic and defiant at once. Which Santh remembered from the sessions he’d had with him in the forest, of course. But here, it was in real world. He returned to his seat, one leg crossed over the other. “So, this is perhaps what has drawn him to you. That spirit.”

Ah, Santh had just wanted Armand to be himself. So be it. “Or perhaps my face is just that pretty,” he said calmly, closely surveying Santh. “If you were to share me, would it be a repeat of the cave? Because I won’t stand for it. I cannot stand for it. I’d like to think I know Gregory now, but I don’t know you. And perhaps you would bounce off one another and I would find myself trapped.”

Santh considered the question, one finger brushing along his blond-bearded chin, which he’d trimmed neatly this evening. “You do know me, Little Lamb. If you know him. I’m not going to trap you, and neither would he.” He gave Armand a wolfish grin. “You do have a pretty face, but it takes more than pretty to win me over. What are your talents?”

Armand smirked at this, mentally flipping through his repertoire as he studied Santh. “Making Gregory pull some questionable faces over conference calls that only document from the waist up. And you know his composure,” he offered. “What would please you?”

Santh gave him an impressed look. “Oh, I would like to have seen that in play.” He thought for a moment. “I would just like to own you for a while… I have no preference for how that’s done… He can watch.”

“Own me? We can arrange that, I’m sure.” Armand nodded. He was used to that with men, and so he knew how to play into it. “Will he be content with sitting back and watching, do you think?”

Santh laughed outright at that. “No. No, he won’t. But he will… for a while at least.” Santh sat still in his chair and watched Armand closely. “Do you really want this, or are you just reverting back to the pleasure boy you were bought and sold for as a mortal?”

Armand quirked a brow at this and looked at Santh coolly. Why did he give a damn? But no. When he looked at Santh, he was reminded of everything he found attractive in a man. Santh was not very unlike his Marius, only taller and broader. And bearded. What a gift to have two bearded ancients wrapped around his little finger. Armand delighted to look into his eyes, so different from his own and from Gregory’s, a shade of green he’d never seen before with a pull of primal forests.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Armand purred.

Santh gave him a serious look, ignoring the teasing comment meant to deflect him. “I would like to know, actually. I’ve been with Nebamun long enough to know there’s two sides. The one that really wants to be with me, and the one that flips on that pleasure slave switch and does it out of some ingrained duty.” He looked closely at Armand, scanning him strongly for emotion or thought. “I prefer the first, not the second.”

Armand nodded solemnly, both understanding and appreciating Santh’s concern. “Yes. I am doing this because I want to do it. I delight in intimacy and search for it everywhere. Who am I to reject it from you of all people, you who embodies every appealing physical quality I enjoy in a man.”

Santh was honestly flattered by this, and he let Armand know with a shy duck of his head, which was totally fake. He hadn’t a shy bone in his body. “See, I knew it was my looks.”

He swiftly leaned in and kissed Armand, holding his arms with strong hands. Armand all but froze, but he understood quickly it was his first chance to show a physical interest. So he returned the kiss, and god was it a good one, and he was pliant and perhaps too willing immediately in Santh’s hold.

Santh nuzzled down beneath Armand’s jaw, along his throat, and then lifted his head to look into those deceivingly innocent eyes. “When do you want to start this, Armand?”

“As soon as we’ve spoken to Gregory,” he breathed, happy that nobody else was in the salon. “And it’s not just your looks. But tell me, what will you bring to the table for me? If you’re so like Gregory, as you say.”

Santh raised a brow. “I think you know the answer to that question, Armand. You had us both for four nights. We have some clearly differing styles when it comes to torture, and the same can be said for carnal pleasures. And you were drawn more to my methods, weren’t you? I’m a little less forgiving than he is. I think he’s forgotten some of who he was back in Egypt. I have not.”

Armand nodded his understanding. He could handle that. Sometimes it felt as though he’d written the book on such things. He looked Santh over once with a small, smug smile.

“You may go now,” Armand dismissed him airily, as if he could have any bearing over what the Ancient did. “Do tell me what Gregory says.”

Santh sat up. He stared at Armand with something like amusement and disbelief. “Oh, you think you can just dismiss me now?” He sat back in the chair and steepled his hands together. “You’re his little pet right now. _You_ call him and tell him what you want me to do to you. I’ll sit here and listen.”

Armand felt momentarily trapped, a deer in headlights, before he remembered his saving grace. “He has meetings tonight. He’d kill me for interrupting. I’m sure he’ll find time to see you, though.”

Santh laughed. “I see. Maybe that’s a little too much for you to handle right off. I’ll talk to him.” He gave Armand a smile that was half evil, half genuine. “I’ll tell him all sorts of things, and I’m sure he’ll be contacting you before I can.”

“Oh, what would you have to tell him?” Armand quipped, fully confident of himself. “You’ve not even had me in bed yet.”

“I think I have enough to know what you would like from me to make it believable to him. And I know him and what will flip that anger switch in him.” Santh stood and smoothed his blond hair back into a more tidy mess on his head. He glanced down at Armand. “Don’t you want to see if he’ll get possessive, or if he’ll agree to it?”

Armand shook his head firmly. “I don’t want to toy with him like that. I respect him. And besides, if there’s anyone he would share me with, it’s you. He’s already told me that.”

Santh’s whole energy softened at that. He leaned down and kissed Armand’s head again. “Okay. You tell him when you are ready, then. I’ll be waiting.”

Armand’s own mood softened, and he smiled lightly. He played with the idea of not telling Gregory for a while, of dragging it out until the last possible moment.

Armand stood from his chair, and was surprised again by Santh’s height in comparison to his. He stretched up as far as he could go to press a kiss to Santh’s icy cheek. “Yes, you will be waiting…” he murmured before turning to leave the room.

———————————————————

_Text conversation between Daniel and Armand_

Daniel: have you seen Lestat? Everyone’s asking for him. And if they’re desperate enough to ask me, that’s sad

Armand: No, I’ve not. I’ve started to worry too.

———————————————————

_Text conversation between Gregory and Armand_

Gregory: Hello my heart.

Armand: Hello darling. I actually have to talk to you. Santh paid me a visit.

Gregory: That sounds ominous. What did Santh do?

Armand to Gregory: He has an arrangement in mind. He wanted me to ring you in front of him and tell you about it. He also kissed me.

Armand: Just to be upfront.

Gregory: That sounds like him. You could have called me in front of him and said anything. He knew that. Did he scare you?

Armand: A little bit at first, but we talked.

Armand: He’s not like you.

Gregory: He’s a little rough. What is this arrangement? I can already guess what it is, and I’m not against it, if that’s what you are asking.

Armand: He said he wants to own me for a short while, and for you to sit back and watch. I don’t know if he means it to be a one-time thing.

Gregory: I know what he wants. You can go to him, I’m not jealous of him or you. I will talk to him.

Armand: Are you sure? You said you’ve been feeling possessive.

Gregory: I just don’t get that way with Santh. We are very close. We were made the same night and thrown together. Twins. I would feel more possessive of _him_ in this situation, if I’m being honest. I know your allure.

Armand: I’ll try not to ensnare him

Gregory: Not to change the subject, but I need to know if you’ve seen Lestat in the past night or two.

Armand: No I’ve not. I’m worried

Armand: I didn’t get around to properly apologizing and thanking him for his advice. I haven’t been able to catch him.

Gregory: Don’t be worried. I’ll find him.

Gregory: How is Daniel?

Armand: I’m not sure, if we’re being honest.

_\---------------------_

_Group text conversation between Gregory, Daniel and Armand_

Gregory: Hello Daniel. Do you want to learn to fly?

Daniel: absofuckinglutely not

Gregory: :frowning2:

Daniel: I heard you want to drop me, no thanks

Daniel: Guys uh…if Lestat’s gone and Marius is gone…who’s in charge?

Gregory: I’m in charge.

Daniel: …oh. cool. You’re doing a great job, sir

Gregory: I know.

Armand: Less time for me :( but you are doing a good job. We need to find Lestat, this is the second time in two months he’s done this.

Armand: But don’t be impolite, Daniel. You should be honored to learn to fly from Gregory

Daniel: ok thank you, Prince Gregory, but absofuckinglutely not. Sincerely, Daniel.

Gregory: Don’t call me Prince. And if this is the attitude, Daniel, when I have enough time I’ll just grab you and do it.

Daniel: dude please don’t I’m sorry I really don’t want to fly thanks

Armand: You wanted to fly the other night

Daniel: _[I_ _’m afraid of heights] /deleted_

Daniel: _[I barely remember the other night] /deleted_

Daniel: changed my mind

Gregory: Like a small child afraid to pull out that baby tooth that’s hanging there by a thread. Just yank it out, Daniel. And Armand, I do not mean that in a dirty way, so don’t go there.

Armand: I wouldn’t dream of it

———————————————————

_Private text conversation between Armand and Gregory_

Armand: I do miss you.

Gregory: I miss you too. I am trying to scan for Lestat. I have an idea where he may have gone. Otherwise, I would be all over you right now.

Armand: In between running your business and the court? You’re an impressive man. Let me know if you need help. He’s not responding to my call or anything.

Gregory: I could use your help with some of the court business, actually. I’ll send you the details. Mostly dealing with the staff and issues with fledglings around the court.

Armand: I’ll sort it. No rest for the wicked apparently.

———————————————————

_Private text conversation between Daniel and Armand_

Daniel: Gregory’s not serious right?

Armand: Deadly.

Daniel: can you please convince him out of it?

Armand: Make me

Daniel: please? I really don’t like the idea of careening a thousand miles an hour into the ground

Daniel: I’m only 67. who says I’m even able to yet

Armand: You’re absolutely positive you don’t want to do it?

Daniel: Gregory has better shit to do that throw a fledgling out of the air

Armand: Do you want to do it, though?

Daniel: there’s no way I’d be able to yet

Armand: Would you like to try, though?

Daniel: …if I learn, I guess we could finally go to Hawaii. If I can tear you away from your new boyfriend

Armand: I don’t know. Would you like to try with just me?

Daniel: then who would catch me?!

Armand: I’ll ask Gregory to leave you alone. He should oblige

Daniel: boss that doesn’t answer my question… Omg are you just gonna drop me in the ocean?

Armand: No. I’m dropping this flight thing entirely if you want me to.

Daniel: _[I wanna learn, but I don_ _’t need another failure] /deleted_

Daniel: maybe later

———————————————————

_Text conversation between Viktor and David_

Viktor: David, spice cake! We should do a spice cake, cause if we can’t eat it, it might as well smell good.

David: Go ahead. Ask the bakery doing the cake to do a spice cake too. Have them do a chocolate one as well.

Viktor: You trust me, right?

David: Why do you need to ask? Of course I do.

Viktor: Well, you don’t think I can dress myself. Just making sure you trust I can plan a party

David: Your failure to understand fashion doesn’t mean you are untrustworthy. See, I’m untrustworthy, yet I still know how to dress dashingly.

Viktor: _[you_ _’re seriously handsome, yes] /deleted_

Viktor: That you do. Rose and I have been going through lifestyle blogs. She’s taken with Swedish royal weddings decor from some time ago, very pretty and classy. I’m sure Gregory will have a nice…6000-whatever birthday

Viktor: Do you still celebrate yours?

David: I still note it, but I don’t celebrate it. I’ll be 104 this October.

David: Louis is in New Orleans. He is fine. Thought you would want to know.

Viktor: Thank you. Does he know where Dad is?

David: He did not answer when I asked. I did not ask again. I don’t want to upset him.

———————————————————

_Text conversation between Armand and Gregory_

Armand: Any luck finding Lestat last night?

Gregory: No. I searched but found nothing. He may be blocking me after that situation the other night.

Armand: I think the same. I feel guilty, and I very rarely feel guilty. I hate it.

Gregory: It was all me. I shouldn’t have been so aggressive like that with him. I should have gone after him to explain.

Gregory: I have a free moment. Do you want me to go get Daniel and teach him to fly?

Armand: Better to spend it with me. Daniel absolutely doesn’t want to learn to fly. He’s petrified of it.

Gregory: If you say so. But fearing it is the worst part. Where are you?

Armand: The chateau library, trying to help run this court. Why?

Gregory: Because you just said I should spend the free moment I have with you. I will come to the library.

Armand: I love to see you taking orders from me. :wink: See you soon

———————————————————

Gregory walked into the library to find it mainly empty. He had never really been in the chateau’s public library before. He was too busy to have time for perusing books just for the fun of it.

He found Armand at a shelf of books, looking like an angel, and his heart skipped a beat. “Hello,” he said softly and kissed the nape of his neck, breathing in the intoxicating smell of him.

Armand closed his eyes and reveled in it, such an intimate gesture in such a public place. They’d fallen into one another so quickly, and the intensity of it was overwhelming. But it was addictive, and Armand wouldn’t change it for the world. He tilted his neck to give Gregory better access, enjoying the fragrance of his cologne. It was nothing compared to his natural scent, of course, but it enhanced it.

“Hello you,” he murmured, flicking through the notebook in his hand. Armand had chronicled each fledgling and their issues, ticking them off as he solved them. Really, he had a skill for administration that few gave him credit for. “We have much to sort out.”

Gregory smiled brightly at Armand, wanting only to be in his presence and forget the rest of the troubles. But he knew it was impossible right now. He eyed the notebook. “What do we have to sort out?” He stood well within Armand’s personal space and stared into his eyes. This thing between them was getting beyond his control.

“Where on earth Lestat is,” Armand began. “He’s done this twice now, as I’ve said. And he is important to me as the rest of us. I’m sure there’s a reason he’s disappeared, and I’m sure he needs us, whether he’d admit to it or not.” Armand sighed, looking up at Gregory for the first time. He stood extremely close, and Armand wouldn’t have been able to escape even if he wanted to, trapped between Gregory and the bookshelf. But he didn’t mind. He locked eyes with him. “I’m worried.”

“I know. I am as well. He’d been speaking lately to me about wanting to go into the ground… I’m probably not supposed to share that, but right now, I’m at a loss. He told me a general location of where he would do it, and I swore never to reveal it, but I can’t find him there. So maybe he didn’t do it yet.” Gregory traced a line with one finger gently from Armand’s brow down to the line of his jaw. “What do you suggest? Because I’m out of ideas. Even if he comes back. I have tried to talk to him. He is determined to sleep…and I received a text from him the other night that makes me think Louis has left.”

There was too much information at once, and Armand didn’t know what to do with any of it. “He can’t go into the ground, surely he knows that.” He frowned deeply. Lestat could, of course, it only had implications for them. Or at least Gregory.

“With Marius gone too,” Armand continued. “There’s only you to rule. We have no Prime Minister, and I may be able to help here and there, but what court wants me as a Prime Minister? And Louis? Maybe Louis is gone, but I don’t believe he would have permanently left, would he?” He was worried.

He caught Gregory’s hand and gently pulled it away from his face. “We clearly don’t have time for one another right now, my love. Even filling me in on such terrible things, you touch me.” Armand smiled and pressed a kiss to his hand, waiting for Gregory to move away so he could move in turn. He seemed to have gotten closer.

Gregory felt frustrated suddenly, and he rarely knew that feeling, because he was always the one in control. He made small, deep growl of irritation in his throat and let his head fall against Armand’s shoulder. “I know there is no time for this. I’m never this uncontrolled, Armand. When I’m near you, I want your smell, your taste, your skin.” With a great will, he stepped back, running his hands back through his own hair, looking away for a distraction.

“I don’t know,” Gregory said. “My instinct tells me Lestat will be back. Otherwise, we would have to find a new Prince. I cannot do it. I have too much right now. My first choice would be Seth, actually.”

Armand was helpless against this thing between them, too. How long before Gregory had it been since someone had said such things to him? Wanted him in that way? Daniel, bless him, he tried, and Armand adored him in bed, but he didn’t have the raw power that Gregory had. Hearing Gregory confess his need like that made Armand weak at the knees, and he needed to hold to the bookshelf to stabilize himself.

“Seth…” Armand said breathlessly, attempting to concentrate. “Yes. But we need to find Lestat anyway. Not as our Prince, as our beloved.”

Gregory looked back at Armand, resisting the urge to pull him to some hidden location behind the shelves and do exactly what he knew would make Armand say his name in that needy way that made Gregory crazy.

“How is finding him going to help?” Gregory asked. “He clearly doesn’t want to be here. If he wants us to find him, he will uncloak his mind so I can track him. I see no images of him in mortal minds. I’m searching each location I think he might be, but even I can’t search the whole world, and I have so much else to do right now. He leaves his phone behind so we can’t even find him that way.” Gregory felt a great sadness suddenly. “This is my fault. Why was I so harsh with him?”

Armand resisted the urge to roll his eyes, because he knew it would earn him a talking to. “Look. I feel bad for how we both acted around him, I do. But neither of us were the determining factor in this. Lestat’s world does not revolve around us. Not me, anyway. He’s had far too much on his plate and not enough help from anyone lately. That has to be enough to make him want to give in,” he assured, eyes softening as he looked at Gregory.

Gregory understood all this, yet still felt the deciding moment to cause Lestat’s current absence was in the gardens, when he told Lestat to take his hands off Armand.  
  
“Besides,” Armand added. “I liked the way you behaved, a little bit.”

Gregory smiled. “You like the possessive caveman mentality I fall into around you? I am not this way, Armand. I don’t sink to such base behavior. I’m counting just three people who’ve caused such possessive reactions in me. My first wife, my second wife…now you.”

“Not even Davis?” Armand asked quietly, looking up at Gregory with shock. He didn’t mind at all, but it took him aback. How long had Gregory known Davis by now?

“I do…like it,” Armand admitted. “I can’t help that I do. I think it’s one reason we fit together.”

“I love Davis, but he is not on this level. I love Avicus and Zenobia and Flavius. I don’t feel a need to make it known to others that I consider them to be mine only. And I don’t feel it with Sevraine any more, either. She made her separation from me very clear. So, it’s you and it’s Chrysanthe. And it’s a good thing the two of you get along so far.”

Gregory took the liberty to lean in and kiss Armand fully. “Don’t worry, I know you have your loves too. And I anticipate some amount of disagreement with Marius over this all. Where is Marius, by the way? Why is he not here to care for this Court while Lestat is absent? Why wasn’t he here when you were being sentenced to torture? Isn’t he your husband?”

“Marius goes where he goes. He has a penchant for solitude that a lot of us don’t. I knew that when we were wed,” Armand explained quietly, though he did miss him. “But he and I…our souls are intertwined. We are always with one another.”

Gregory tried not to let that get at him, and hoped he didn’t give any outward indication that it did. He had no right.

“Well,” he replied. “I don’t see any way ahead with Lestat’s absence, other than continuing what we are doing and waiting for his return.”

Armand nodded, sagging against the bookshelf in a way most unbecoming and uncharacteristic of him. But they were alone, what did it matter? “I know. That’s why I’m making a mess of it in my head, trying to be useful. Because I know nothing can be done for it.”

Gregory felt himself drawn forward again, to comfort. He touched Armand’s cheek, moved closer still and slid his fingers into that mop of auburn hair. He held Armand’s head in his hands and kissed and tasted him for long while. Savoring. Knowing this couldn’t go further, because he had to go back to his little office and be responsible.

Armand allowed this, enjoyed it even, and he held Gregory’s hands in his own at either side of his face. What had started out as a comforting touch now had his blood racing, and he gave Gregory a deep and long lasting kiss before drawing back to lock eyes with him.

“Drink from me,” Armand implored. Gregory had not done it since their weekend in Paris, and he missed the feeling if it. “Right here. Then go wherever you must.”

Gregory felt the hunger for Armand immediately wash over as he spoke those words. His eyes darkening, thirst and need blotting out all other concerns. He lifted Armand’s small form slightly off the ground, tilted his head so that white throat was exposed perfectly and slid his fangs in slowly. The blood was, of course, everything. Hot and luscious and entirely his.

Armand sighed deeply, closing his eyes and wrapping his arms around Gregory. He wanted to be drained by him, to be left on the floor unable to recall his own name. With their minds and hearts so open to one another, Armand could pour so much out to him now. That he loved this, adored it, adored whatever they had and never wanted it to stop. That he was just as enamored.

Gregory drew the blood in slowly, savoring the intimacy, the feel and taste of this one he was so entangled with now. And the emotions shared between them and through the blood. _I love you_ he sent back, over and over until Armand’s heart slowed and Gregory feared draining him too far.

He let go, staring down at the half-lidded eyes and the limp body in his arms. He pulled Armand up and whispered against his ear, “Do you want my blood? Or do you want me to leave you here, wrecked?”

It was too much, enough to make tears prick Armand’s eyes. Gregory was never meant to _love_ him. That was the scariest thing that had happened so far. But amidst the swoon, he couldn’t panic too much. He felt too safe, too sated, too happy to have given Gregory this nourishment, even if it was nothing to his power.

“Wrecked,” Armand whispered quietly. It felt too good. He would figure it out.

Gregory laughed a little at this. “As you wish. But maybe not on the floor.” He lifted Armand and took him over to the little area of couches and chairs. He laid him out on a couch and leaned down to kiss his cold lips and brush a thick lock of hair off his forehead. “I’ll see you later,” he whispered. Gregory quietly left the library, the taste of Armand still on his tongue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter was a little heavy on the texting, sorry! This fic isn't going to devolve into just text conversations, I promise. I try to keep them balanced out with the chapters they lead into. This one just worked out that way.  
> Next up, more Viktor and David, and also Daniel finds just how Gregory left Armand.


End file.
